Light in the Shadows
by KHB123
Summary: Shadow of Mordor: Elanor, daughter of Talion, longs for freedom from the Black Gate, but when her family is killed, she and her father are all that remain, along with the wraith, Celebrimbor, whom she seems to see other than Talion. Little does she know that her father is already dead. Talion wants revenge for his wife and son, but wants to protect his daughter at all costs.
1. Opening

**This is a Shadow of Mordor fanfic.**** I've watched the Gameplay on YouTube and really enjoyed it, even though it was sad. There was barely any Shadow of Mordor fanfics to enjoy, so I decided to write one as a LOTR fanfic.**

** I may be a little slow with this story because I have slowly follow along with the plot, but this is for fun. This is a canon within a canon. I only own my OC character. I wanted to explore that Talion had more than one child, a young daughter named Elanor, who might later play a part in LOTR. Like what if she was the only real survivor of the Black Gate (Talion doesn't count because he was just about to die if not for Celebrimbor), and what if her blood connection to Talion plays an important part in this adventure? **

**This is rated M for graphic violence and possible sexual content (mostly from flashbacks)**

**This is just the opening from the game for now. The story takes place in the year T.A. 3001, because the that's around the time the shadows of Mordor began to spread, Saruman joined Sauron, and Bilbo celebrated his 111th birthday. It's in the Appendixes B, so it makes sense that Shadow of Mordor took place at this time.**

* * *

_In the land of Mordor, where the Shadows lie..._

_It was here, on the slopes of Mount Doom, that the Dark Lord Sauron was defeated by a last alliance of Men and Elves. _

_It is here that for two thousand years, the Rangers of Gondor stood watch, guarding against a nameless threat they had all but forgotten. And while the strength of Gondor faded, the power and malice of Sauron grew in darkness._

_He has returned to Mordor._

_Shadow and flame have fallen on the Black Gate and no mortal man can stand in its path. None had survived._

_Except one._

_One of the least likely to have walked in the presence of evil and to have escaped. One, a child of the Dunedain, whose heart beat like warm flame in the cold darkness. A star in the everlasting night...for when all hope was bleak to those who wander, tainted by the horrors of the Dark Lord's servants, her spirit would shine ever more brighter._

_For she was the first in her time to have witnessed seemingly impossible deeds...just as she may well be the last._

_A daughter of Ranger Captain, who's fate is yet to be known, she is the messenger of what will come. _

_May her spirit never break and her hope never fade. _

* * *

**This is really short, told by Galadriel (I think), but I still have a lot of work to do for this as well as my other works. I hope this sparked your curiosity at least. The next chapter, I'm planning another opening, but more in Elanor's words, taking place in the future when she recalls all that happened in her childhood during the War of the Rings. This fanfic will be in Talion, Celebrimbor, and my OC's POV.**

**See you in a little while! Let me know what you think, and if you have any suggestions.**


	2. Awakening (Pt 1)

**Okay, I take it back about this whole scene being only an opening scene for Elanor. Well, it is, and then it isn't. I'm just going to flash it and just start the story:) Enjoy!**

**P.S. I'm basing the timeline off the movie for the War of the Rings. Instead of 3018, I'm making 3005, because I don't think twenty years have passed since Bilbo left the Shire and Frodo went on his quest. Frodo just looks the same age as last time and Gandalf made that trip to Minas Tirith right away to read the scrolls. **

**So that would mean the War of the Rings (in this fanfic, at least) took place four or five years later from Shadow of Mordor.**

* * *

(Elanor)

I remember falling.

Sliding, tumbling, and speeding through the dark channel, unable to stop even as my fingers clawed at the sandy stone that formed narrow walls around me. My throat was dry, hoarse from my seemingly endless screams. Screams for my brother, who was the last face I remembered seeing before darkness swallowed me. I was sliding...blinded...fear my strongest companion...

He had shoved me...why...

My eyelids were heavy, glued shut from unconsciousness that seemed to last an eternity. With painful effort, they managed to flicker, cracking slightly. The faint light seeped through my lashes. From the smell of the air, thick with the fumes of fire and smoke and...something of decay...it was already clear that I was outside of the chute, but the air as I remembered-the beautiful, clean winds of the outside world I savored from day and night-was gone. I couldn't feel my body, but I felt heavy as the wall I lived in. My head was even heavier, as though weighed down by mounds of stone being pounded by dwarfish hammers at the base of my skull.

Eru, it hurt. Did I break something? I couldn't think...or distinguish any other feeling in my body.

Was I dead? Obviously not, since I still hurt. You are not supposed to feel pain in death. Right?

A faint groan escaped my parted lips, which were coated and cracked with dust. My mouth tasted acidic and coppery. Right...I must have hit my head when I landed...hard...on the gravel...Ow...

I remember feeling horror. Seeing a nightmare unfold before my eyes...my head pounded furiously, threatening to pull me back into the dreamless void. There was no telling how long I was out...had it been raining? It stopped. The air that was full of fumes that floated with heavy dampness thick as a fog. I felt like crying. Wetness escaped the corners of my eyes, stinging with heat from the pain and fear that ate me up in the weight of my haze.

_Mother...Father…help me….everywhere hurts...want...to…sleep..._

_Forgive me. I love you, little sister._

_Dirhael..._

I knew no more. Only darkness.

* * *

(Talion)

He woke with a rush of icy cold filling his entire body, burning deeper than the coldest winters into the very marrow of his bones. The shock sent him to his feet, but his legs easily gave away from sudden pain. Shadows and immaterial shapes surrounded his worldview, vibrating through the darkness like the wild rapids of a river. They bellowed through his ears and into his brain so loudly it made him dizzier, threatening to drown him in its chaotic phantoms.

What happened? Was this death?

Fear spiked through his core. He remembered. He remembered...who and what he was…..what had happened. He remembered….dying. There had been three wicked, inhuman figures, their clawed hands trapping his arms in vice-like grips that could bend metal…..he remembered feeling the hot blaze of the blade slowly slicing his throat, his watery vision becoming peppery with black dots as the blood began to pour. He remembered feeling pain. More pain than he had ever felt in his life….and that had been _before_ his throat had been cut.

Then he remembered….his fear was not for his own wellbeing. Only for the few people who made up his heart. His whole world.

_My name is Talion._

_I am a Ranger of Gondor. _

_Captain of the Black Gate._

_Husband of...Father of..._

"Ioreth!" he cried out for his beloved wife, his voice coming out hoarse and raspy. It strained his lungs to speak; his hand coming up to brush the base of his throat that had not been whole before. Swallowing and gasping in anxiety, unable to stand, he found himself crawling in desperation.

"Dirhael!" he screamed for his son. His proud, courageous son...

_This is a nightmare. It has to be. Oh, gods, please...please, no...not them...not them...I cannot live without them…Am I even alive? Are they?_

He looked around wildly, the ghostly shapes of this strange void making him sway from their plundering illusions, their distorted shapes lashing out in shattered whirlwind. The shadows were as bleak as whatever courage he held onto...but it was failing. His voice became small. "Elanor?" he whispered for his precious daughter.

His wife. His son. His daughter. Where were they? If he was in the place where they should be, then why have they not come forward yet? He did not understand. If he didn't find them soon, he feared that he would go mad. He needed them. All of them.

It was not long before the shadows began to part once he maintained balance and sharpened vision.

Through the void, he spotted a motionless form lying on the ground, ten feet away. Perhaps it was the cold essence flooding his being in raging turrets, but he felt himself go numb as he stared at the body. Finally managing to stand, wobbling on weakened knees that were on the verge of giving away, he found himself slowly moving forward, though he feared what he may find. His feet were heavy as they dragged across the ground. He couldn't breathe.

Blood pooled around the body, already dried like a dark, inky stain over stone, bled out from the long deep gash across the body's chest. Mouth parted and glassy hazel eyes half-opened beneath the tangle of dark hair strands...

Dirhael.

Talion fell to his knees. All the air left his lungs with a whoosh, as though he had been impaled through the chest. His eyes were wide, misting up with tears that threatened to break in the midst of his shock as he stared at the bloodied body of his firstborn.

Silent, his breath shuddering from this horror before his eyes, he lifted a trembling hand. It felt heavy while it hovered over the body of his son, but when it finally rested on the boy's head, his long tousled hair still wet from the rain and stiff with his own blood, the touch of stillness became too much. Too real. A soft, strangled sob escaped his mouth.

His fingers ran gently through Dirhael's hair, hoping beyond hope that his love would be strong enough to bring life back into his child, or at least have him wake up so that he would greet his father. Talion felt his jaw tremble and closed his eyes, his body shuddering as he struggled with all his might not to shatter. When he opened them again, his son was still dead. His precious son...one of his reasons for life...gone, before his very eyes...

With another gasping sob, the ranger closed the lad's eyes and kept caressing his face. "Oh, my boy," Talion choked, a hot tear escaping his eye as he ran his hand across Dirhael's cold face, the outline of his jaw still hinting a growth of hair. He brushed the hair strands away, just as he had always done when Dirhael was a child….or when he need comfort. "My brave, brave boy," he whispered with a tremor. "My young warrior. Forgive me. I have failed you, my boy. I failed you..."

With his eyes now closed, Dirhael looked like he was sleeping. The peace on his features, despite its gruesome end, made him look younger. Like a child. Talion's child, with no cares in the world and all the love that he could ever receive. Longing desperately to hold that precious child of his again in his arms, Talion found himself lying over the body of his son, his arms wrapping protectively around the shell that once held a life that had yet to begin, and buried his face in Dirhael's tousled hair, letting himself get lost in his tears.

For a long time he lay like that, whispering to his son as though he were heard, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I love you, Dirhael. I am so proud of you. So proud..._Please _come back to me. Please...please...oh, my boy...my boy..."

When there was no such luck, when time seemed to pass slowly, Talion had grown silent as he kept hold of his son a moment longer. He felt so lost that no words could describe the pain he felt delve deeply into his soul...but he had to get up. Dirhael would be put to rest, but he had to find his wife and daughter.

Finally, Talion moved his head and pressed a kiss in Dirhael's hair, breathing into his scent one more time. _I will come back. I will not be long. I love you, son._

Reluctant to leave his son, Talion forced himself to get up. The ranger managed to sit up in kneeling position, taking a deep breath. Looking down, he was surprised to find Dirhael's sword lying there at his knees, having been left unnoticed until now. The blueish-gray blade that had once been longer than the average man's arm was split in half, the edge narrowed into a sharper tilt.

Sad to see his son's first and only weapon in such a state, Talion found himself picking up the damaged sword in both hands, staring at the steel's unusual color, remembering a time with the blade had not seemed sharp enough...but his son had been too determined to care...

_Talion examined the long sword in both his hands, his fingers tracing the blade, which had a tint of blue in its silver. He could feel Dirhael waiting eagerly in the background, already wearing the holster for his new sword. Though now a young man of twenty, his son still had that boyish spark in him. One that he hoped would never go out. Talion smirked in amusement._

_"It is a perfect swing," he announced, tossing the sword back to his son, "for killing chickens."_

_Dirhael scoffed, his eyes glittering mischievously. "Wouldn't want to hurt you." They clashed their swords, instantly beginning their practice. _

_Talion smiled at the youth. "It'll take a lot more than that," he said. _

_Dirahel took a light swing at him, but his father easily stepped aside and hind-kicked him, causing the young man to stumble in surprise. Talion let out a booming laugh. "Dirhael, the mighty chicken killer! Come on." He beckoned at the lad, readying his own sword. "Come on. Show your father what you have."_

_"Make sure you don't cry when I best you," teased Dirhael, letting his sword hover with a mock threat._

_Talion tilted his head. "Humor me."_

_Dirhael grunted and swung his sword, which Talion blocked easily. "You'll have to hit harder if you want to best your father."_

_The young man swung again, the blade ringing loudly from the clash. "Hard enough?" _

_As they continued clashing swords, Talion tutored his son as he continued pushing the youth back. "Parry, son. Don't forget to block."_

_"Perhaps you should not forget to hit!" his son shot back, frustration seeping his tone._

_"Stay alert, Dirhael. Your enemy will not always be as he appears."_

_As they fought, Talion easily blocking his son's moves, Dirhael was tiring, but had become more aggressive. His playful efforts became more edged, his smile twisted into a frown, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. For a moment, it seemed like the young Dunedain forgot whom he was fighting. With a growl, the boy swung again, but Talion blocked it with a narrow arc. He was no longer smiling. "Easy, son," he murmured. "You're not a soldier yet."_

_Dirhael's aggressive look faded, recognition returning in his eyes. Lips pressed, his son stepped back and lowered his sword, looking away. "I will be, though," he mumbled. "I'll get better."_

_"Dirhael, look at me," Talion said softly. When Dirhael looked up, depression in his gaze, the worried father continued with a small smile, "This was just a test, not a training field, and you are already doing so well. I know you will get better, son, but it is of the utmost importance that you have patience. These are not the wooden swords we have used our whole lives; these blades can cut through flesh and bone with just one careless swing. I have told you this before."_

_Dirhael nodded and bowed his head. "Yes, Father."_

_"Good lad." Talion paused, and then went to place a hand on his son's shoulder. "And...I need you to know that I am proud of you, Dirhael. No matter _what_ you choose to be." Dirhael smiled a little, but his father continued solemnly, "Son...I need to know, and I need you to tell me honestly."_

_"Father?" _

_"Is this truly what you want?" asked Talion, softly. He gestured around him. "All of this. To become a soldier of the Black Gate. To swear an oath to guard it with your life until your oath is released...is becoming a soldier truly what you want, or is it because you believe it's what _I _want for you?"_

_Dirhael looked surprised. "I...I do," he stammered, sounding insistent. "I do want it. It's what I have always wanted."_

_"It is what you have always _known,_" replied Talion, firmly. He sighed. "You were born here, you know. Both you and your sister, because your mother and I were sent here for...for what I did."_

_Dirhael nodded. He had already learned this a while ago, along with Elanor, who had been only a small child back then._

_"Your mother and I had little choice but to be here, and even now our choices have limits. But Dirhael…I _never_ want you to feel imprisoned. You are free to choose whatever you want to be. You have a long life ahead of you, and I don't want you to waste it for the sake of someone else's wishes. Not even for your grandfather. Not even for mine. I want you to be sure, son. I want you to be happy."_

_"I..." Dirhael avoided his gaze, looking unsure. _

_Talion kept observing his son. Dirhael was nearly as tall as his father, already broad in the shoulders, dressed his a green long-sleeved tunic, furred leather boots, and fingerless gloves that had once been Talion's. He had brown hair in the lighter shade his mother's had been when she was younger, but was tousled and shoulder-lengthened like his father's. His young face held the first signs of a stubble, making him truly look like an adult (bearing a similar resemblance of his father), except for the shine in his hazel eyes that revealed the lack of life experiences that would yet unveil in his future. In shorter terms, it was innocence, but not as close to the look of what his daughter had._

_But when Talion saw that rage appear in Dirhael's expression, it was not the first time that the Ranger Captain felt that flicker of worry and doubt that has haunted him since the day Dirhael was born. It was the same rage that Talion had seen in his own many times before, though not quite as deadly. Remembering many years ago of what he and his wife discussed about their little boy, Talion wanting him to train as a warrior and Ioreth wanting him to choose a peaceful future, it seemed so long ago that Talion was starting to wonder if he ever wanted this position for his son. He knew that Dirhael would have to grow up eventually, but now that it was happening, Talion suddenly wished it wasn't._

_More than anything, though, he wanted to make sure Dirhael...that _both_ of his children...knew what they wanted and would be happy with it in the end. He wanted them to have good lives. He wanted them to be_ free.

_He squeezed his son's shoulder. "Whatever you choose to be, I will support," he said again. "You are becoming a man now, Dirhael. The choice will be yours, and I would have it be one that will be a part of who you are. You have no need to prove yourself."_

_"Thank you, Father," said Dirhael, softly. Then the lad took a deep breath and looked his father full in the eye with a boldness that bested his age. "But I do want this. I want to guard and protect. I want to learn how to fight like you, and I want to gain a similar position as yours. Maybe there had been a time when I was doing it because I thought I was expected to...but now I know that I want this. Truly."_

_Talion nodded. He never had the heart to reveal to Dirhael about the talks between him and Ioreth. He already knew of Dirhael's protective nature, mostly around his little sister, Elanor. Though the siblings had different perspectives when it came to deciding their actions, they had similar natures that ran in their Dunedain blood: to guard and protect. His children truly were a blessing from the Valar. Even when they could get out of control, sometimes._

_Talion forced a small smile and then patted Dirhael's neck. "Training starts in the morning, then," he said. "Go find Elanor. I'm sure her boredom has driven her to mischief by now. She'll need her brother."_

_Dirhael nodded and smiled, looking genuinely happy at the mention of his baby sister. "Thank you, Father." _

_When his son turned to leave, Talion added, "Sheathe you sword first."_

_Dirhael chuckled and rolled his eyes. "_Yes, _Father, I know."_

_His long sword shined blue in the sunlight before it sheathed itself back into the holster with a loud ring. Talion watched fondly as his son walked away, but was left with a heavy heart._

_He only hoped he had done the right thing...but as usual, if Dirhael did join the guards of the Black Gate, Talion would look after him. His son was becoming more like his father every day, in ways that even Talion himself recognized...a fact that sometimes worried the Ranger Captain. He would protect the boy with his life, just as his son vowed to protect his sister with his life._

_Talion rarely prayed...but he did now, for Dirhael and Elanor. _Keep them safe.

Talion stared down at the broken sword in his hands, the only remaining object of his son he had left. It had only been a year ago when he had started Dirhael's training, the day when his son admitted his desire to become a Ranger of the Black Gate. Talion had sworn that day that he would do everything in his power to make sure Dirhael would have the long life he deserved...and he had failed. He wished he were the one who died instead.

But….did he already? The question remained.

"Am I dead?" His voice trembled, his grief and fear still raw.

He never expected an answer, from anything or anyone, but it came with the deep voice that echoed quietly from a cold wind that swept over the void, shimmering with ghostly shadows that flickered between life and death. The sweep of light passed through the shadows, making Talion jump to his feet, holding Dirhael's broken sword at ready, his heart pounding wildly.

He felt the newcomer…..but could not see him.

The voice echoed briefly, so quickly it barely escaped Talion's knowledge, "_You are banished from death."_

**TBC**

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**I thought that I would split the introduction of the story into parts. There wasn't much of Elanor in this chapter, nor will there be in the next, but she will come up soon. There is going to be a lot of flashbacks in this story. There may be past and present scenes flickering back and forth in each chapter, regarding important characters. Just planning. **

**This was mostly Talion and Dirhael's chapter. I decided to add a bit more to this plot than what happened in the game, like Talion's talk with his son as well as his grieving. Just emotional stuff. Hope you liked it!**

**Part II is for Talion and Ioreth. Love those two:) Review, please!**


	3. Awakening (Pt 2)

**Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad it had a good start!**

* * *

_"Am I dead?" His voice trembled, his grief and fear still raw._

_He never expected an answer, from anything or anyone, but it came with the deep voice that echoed quietly from a cold wind that swept over the void, shimmering with ghostly shadows that flickered between life and death. The sweep of light passed through the shadows, making Talion jump to his feet, holding Dirhael's broken sword at ready, his heart pounding wildly._

_He felt the newcomer…..but could not see him._

_The voice echoed briefly, so quickly it barely escaped Talion's knowledge, _"You are banished from death."

Talion shivered. In the blink of an eye, he had seen the light, heard the murmur of male voice...and then it was gone. The air had become more cold than before, tickling his skin like drops of icy water. Had it been his imagination? If it had been, he could not help but feel prying eyes observing his demeanor like a hidden predator.

Then he saw her.

Sheathing his son's broken sword, Acharn, Talion slowly walked, his body numb with shock. The internal wound that festered in his soul from the loss of his son grew into a wider, gaping chasm, searing with edges with licks of hellish flames as he slowly knelt next to the body of his wife.

His love. His life.

Her dark braided hair had fallen loose, spreading out in a wide, wet curtain across the stone, drenched in her own blood that had bled out from the gaping wound across her throat. Her brown eyes were still wide open from staring up at the sky, empty and dull of the beautiful glow that he fell in love with, her mouth parted from giving her final sigh of life. Fear was still hinted in her features, but they also contained submission.

His shaking fingers brushed her cold, pale cheek, but no breath drew from her lips. He picked up her hand in both of his, small and soft in his own larger and more calloused pair. He traced her palm delicately, trying to will her to wake with his soothing touch, but he could feel her warmth no longer.

"Ioreth," he whispered brokenly to the body of his wife. The gentle woman he had fell in love with the moment he laid eyes on her. The moment he had first heard the sound of her voice. The mother of his children and the living source of all that made him what he was. Another heavy tear trailed down his face unheeded. In shaky whispers that twisted his heart like the edge of a dagger, he kept repeating her name, hoping she would wake up with all the love he had for her. "Ioreth...Ioreth...Ioreth..." he whispered, his voice small and begging her to come back to him.

When he grew silent, he shut his eyes and more tears flooded. He lifted her hand to his lips and let him linger there as his body shook with silent sobs. He could not remember the last time he had ever cried this hard. It had been few...but this was pure anguish.

The internal wound grew wider at the base of his chest. As though feeling it physically, he felt himself lean over once more across the body of another member of his family, but with the one he had pledged his heart and soul to. Without her...without the children she bore him...he was nothing. _Nothing._

Talion closed her eyes as he had done with Dirhael and brushed the loose strand of hair from her perfect face. Even in death, she looked beautiful. His breath shuddering in heavy gasps, Talion leaned over and kissed her lips, still soft but cold as ice. His own hair strands brushed her face as he kissed her, but she still didn't wake.

Breaking from the kiss, Talion wrapped his arms around and lifted her into his lap, cradling her head against his shoulder. She was so light, so small and fragile. Kissing the top her hair, he rocked her back and forth like a child, letting himself be lost in his tears. After a while, as his moans resided, he then started to hum his wife's favorite song, a tune that had always brought peace to both him and his children.

Even now, he could hear her singing. Oh, how her sweet voice could sooth his mind and heart...

_Talion smiled as he heard the familiar humming tune coming from the fair lady behind him. Turning slightly around, he watched as his lovely wife, Ioreth, passed him by while carrying a basket full of newly collected crops to the fortress across the Morannon. She wore her long-sleeved blue dress with a yellow-collared cowl draped over her shoulders, her leather-skinned boots treading lightly over the stone as she hummed more sweetly than song of birds, soft and warm as honey that lifted every man, woman, and child's heart as lightly as a cloud._

_Though not nearly as much as did Talion, the hardened and respected Ranger Captain of the Black Gate, who grows soft and enchanted by the mere presence of this beautiful woman he married._

_Talion watched for a moment as she walked away in her flowing blue dress, entranced by her beauty and her voice, a youthful smile still imprinted on his face. Memories of their first meeting resurfaced, for such a special event had happened in such a similar way. A lowly Ithilien Ranger just passing through the markets of the White City, when one day he heard the loveliest voice that his ears ever beheld, therefore tracing to a young Dunedain maiden of noble birth, who also happened to be the most beautiful sight he had ever seen...Even now, it seemed impossible that he was now her husband, that she loved _him.

_In his hands, delivered from a friend from back in Minas Tirith, was a small arrangement of white and yellow flowers that glowed like pearl and gold in the afternoon sunlight, shimmering in the way the stars do. They were still fresh and sweet-smelling, delivered by one of the Rangers of the Gate who was sent on a long-distant errand to the White City._

_Niphredil and Elanor, both flowers born of magic and harvested by the Elves. Ioreth's two favorite flowers. _

_Planning on surprising her with this simple, but thoughtful gift, Talion headed toward the fortress his wife was just entering, creeping silently near the entrance with his blue cloak flowing in the wind and his feet as silent as an Elf's. He paused near the barrels as Ioreth began singing softly to herself as she arranged the crops on the table:_

"_On winds and waters may you cross_

_See mountains white and blue_

_But on your road, let's not forget_

_The love I have for you_

_Dance on beaches in Anfalas _

_Sleep in moonlit fields of view_

_May you cross another golden age_

_With preciousness free-flowing_

_With Halfling, Elves, and Dwarves engage_

_Their wisdom on you bestowing..." (Hums)_

_When Talion breezed behind her, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest, and kissed her neck, while holding the small set of flowers before her eyes. She melted into his warm presence with a small giggle and Talion chuckled lovingly._

_"Happy Anniversary, my love," he whispered in her ear, before kissing it._

_"Talion," Ioreth smiled, as she took the flowers and held them to her nose, breathing in deeply with a look of delight in her brown eyes. She stroked their petals delicately. "These are beautiful. Elanor flowers? These are Elvish...Where did you find these?"_

_Talion stepped back and shrugged lightly. "I still have a few friends left in Gondor," he said. "There happened to be Elves residing in Gondor at this time, bringing flowers from Lothlorien. I believe it was for a wedding."_

_Ioreth then looked at him, her delight suddenly becoming a tad more serious. "Did you talk to my father?" she asked._

_Talion's smile faded at the mention of her father, the retired Captain of the Rangers. Grimly recalling the last conversation he had with Hallas, he sighed and leaned against the table, not looking at her. "Yes, I did," he said tightly, "and nothing has changed. He's still very stubborn."_

_"I say we go anyway," Ioreth said quietly, eagerness sparkling in her gaze. Talion did not doubt that she meant what she said; it was little wonder his son and daughter were troublemakers. They got most of it from their mother. _

_Talion shook his head sadly. "Dirhael will not come willingly," he told her reluctantly._

_"But Elanor would," insisted Ioreth. She gestured around her with the flowers."There must be a better life than this."_

_Talion gently took both her hands, squeezing them. "Not now..."_

_"...but soon," she finished with him, their words lacing with reluctant patience. She shook her head and sighed sadly with placing the flowers to her nose once more, "I'm just so tired of hiding out here, Talion. __It's been twenty years. You have served your time long enough. Dirhael and Elanor should be running in the fields of Rohan, or exploring the markets of Esgaroth. They should..."_

_"...be free," he finished softly, causing his wife to meet his knowing gaze. Ioreth was a small woman, about a head shorter than him with a petite frame displaying a warm bosom and graceful arms. Her skin was a creamy pallor with her freckled cheeks tinged a tad golden from the sunlight, her lips were red as strawberries, and her young but intelligent eyes were chocolate brown like her long, flowing hair, which was currently bound into a loose braid that lay draped over her shoulder. Her face was heart-shaped and still young, untainted by any burden or sorrows they had in the past (that could be her Dunedain blood, or maybe it was just Ioreth, who had the strength and patience that her husband knew so well)._

_He took her and pulled her to his chest, her head tucked comfortably under his chin. "It's what I want for them, as well," he said softly. "Every day. Dirhael is old enough to make his own choices now, but Elanor…she's far too young. My greatest fear is that one day she will sneak out of the wall, like she has many times before, only this time she will never come back, whether by her choice or by force."_

_Ioreth wrapped an hand around her husband's arm, feeling them both sway where they stood. "I cannot lie and say that it hasn't occurred to her," she whispered to the troubled father, "but trust me when I say that your daughter would never willingly leave you. Leave all of us. She may have a mind of her own, but she would never leave without our blessing."_

_"I do trust you...always," he breathed into her hair, "but how can you be sure?"_

_"Because I know our daughter," said Ioreth, pulling back to meet his gaze, and wrapped her arms around his neck, "and so do you. You say she is like me because we look alike, but she is like you, as well. More than you realize. And that is a good thing, Talion," she added firmly, when the man looked away with uncertainty. "Your both brave and strong-willed, honorable with a heart that can best a hundred men and with stubborn behavior that can drive anyone over the edge." Talion laughed quietly, and Ioreth cupped his cheek, her hand warm and soft. "And like both of us, together, she is a free-spirit. Dirhael is, too, but he has grown and has entered the age when he can question the difference between duty and desire. Should we leave, he may not have to come, however much it will break our hearts...or maybe he will. The choice is his, but he will always have a place for us in his heart."_

_Talion studied her face, lifting a hand and running his fingers over the loose strands of her braided hair; it intrigued him that it was always somewhat unkempt, as if this woman had been running through the wind as she had twenty years ago. He then traced her cheek, his blood burning with a lust and ferocious love that Ioreth always managed stir within him. It's been more than twenty years since they have met, and such as a feeling has never died. _

_He pressed his fore head against hers, their breath hot and tingling against each other, the flowers scenting in between them. "How is it that you always know what to say to me?" he breathed._

_Ioreth smiled. "You can handle accepting a lifetime of serving your sentence and you never care what anyone says about it...but when it comes to our children, you fear of letting go. It is something we share, my love."_

_"My home is wherever you are, Ioreth," he whispered. "Wherever my family is. I would trade my life and soul a thousand times over just so that I can hold you like this."_

_"As would I," whispered Ioreth._

_Talion tightened his hold on her. "I wish you wouldn't have to..."_

_She shook her head. "It's too late. I am yours, my Talion. Forever."_

_They kissed, her lips warm and soft against him own. Talion was lost in the heat of their passion. It didn't matter that people were watching, Talion was happy. It was one of the few times when he could have time just for them. For them, and no one else. And anyone who would dare interrupt would have to meet the end of his sword..._

_"There is a room in the upstairs, you know!"_

Save for one,_ he thought with a resigned smile._

_Ioreth laughed against his lips and both turned to see their daughter walking toward them around the set of tables, a bow in her hand, a crooked smile on her face. Dressed in her usual trousers beneath a knee-length green dress, the child had clearly been in archery practice. It was one of the few things that her parents allowed her to do what pleasured her. _

_"Elanor, darling," greeted Ioreth, holding out a hand toward the girl. "Come here."_

_The girl placed the bow on the table next to the herbs and approached her mother and father casually. She was a small girl for her twelve years, petite with creamy freckled skin and long, wavy brown hair like her mother, but her eyes were a wide, deep blue like the sea. She was the only one in her family with blue eyes; Ioreth said she inherited them from her grandmother, Hallas' wife. Her face was heart-shaped with high-cheekbones like her mother, her chin becoming more narrow with the first signs of maturity, though they still had the soft traces of a child. _

_Already this preteen, even as a small child, was beautiful like her mother. The thought clenched at Talion's heart._

_Elanor was only a few inches shorter than Ioreth when mother and daughter faced each other, innocent blue eyes questioning the wiser brown. Talion watched with amusement as Ioreth selected one of the star-shaped yellow flowers on her anniversary gift, brushed aside strands of Elanor's hair, and placed the flower behind her hair._

_"There, my precious flower," compliment Ioreth with a nod and kissed the youth's forehead. "My little sun-star. We could not have picked a more suitable name."_

_Elanor rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Happy Anniversary, Mother," she said. She glanced up at Talion and went over to hug him around the torso, who chuckled at his daughter's response. "You too, Father."_

_Talion hugged her back, kissing the top of her head affectionately, before meeting Ioreth's loving eyes. _"I love you,"_ she mouthed, making his heart soar._

_In that moment, for the rest of the day, he forgot his previous worries and could only think about how lucky he was to have a family like this, no matter where they were._

_They were the reason that kept him breathing. They were his home._

Such a happy day seemed like a dream now, forever slipping from his grasp as he continued holding the body of his beloved Ioreth. His body shaking as he wept like a child for what seemed like an eternity, his face face pressed against hers as he rocked her back and forth, his chest literally felt compressed by the weight of a mountain crushing his ribs and blocking the air his lungs.

Recalling Ioreth's gentle words in his memory, he whispered, "I love you, too."

_**TBC**_

* * *

**So this was a chapter for Talion and Ioreth, but I decided to introduce Elanor in the of their anniversary. This took place not long after the first flashback, which was a little less than year ago in the present.**

**Up next is part 3 of intro, and this time, my OC will be there. **

**Please review! They mean so much!**


	4. Awakening (Pt 3)

**Booyah! It's vacation! So excited for some sunshine! I feel sorry for my OC right now and Talion, because where they are now, there is no sunshine. Gosh, I now feel awful! Hugs for them both, because this chapter was not easy. I've actually been a little afraid of writing this chapter because I start crying every time, which is probably why I took so long. There is so much angst!**

**Plus, there was all that geography studying of Mordor. I'm still having trouble understanding which battle fort is which.**

* * *

(Elanor)

The first thing I remembered when waking up was my mother's song.

She would sing it, almost to herself whenever she did chores, but I especially remember her melodic tune when she gently ran the brush through my hair in long, fluid strokes before braiding it. Since my hair was long and fine like hers, she had my long braid sweep over my right shoulder while her tender fingers brushed the back of my neck in the way that lets me know that I am safe.

The brush was my grandmother's, made of silver forged from the blacksmith shops of Minas Tirith. It was one of the few things my mother, Ioreth, had left of her mother, a moment that the two have shared together in Mother's youth. That moment had then been passed on to me. Not in the city, not in any manor, but in the fortress of a great wall. The Morranon Wall.

The next thought that came in my sluggish mind was that the brush was lost. The braid Mother put in my hair tickled my cheek as I slowly regained consciousness. My face contorting as the throbbing set in next, first in my head...then in my body...my arm felt heavy as I lifted a hand to my head, groaning softly. My body ached, as if it had been recently pounded from both sides before meeting a very uncomfortable landing. More like a crash-landing, like the time when I fell off the midsection on the wall and broke my leg years ago.

I wriggled my fingers and toes, shifting my limbs to test. Sore, but not broken. I was fortunate.

There was a sweeping noise like shifting gravel. My eyes shot open in alarm. Shifting my vision, it was the first time I realized I lay sprawled halfway beneath a tipped-over wheelbarrow See the familiar edge of the handle, I then remembered where I hit my head and winced. Did my landing impact really flip the whole thing over?

Remaining still, I listened for any sign of movements, holding my breath despite my pounding heart. Loose hair strands escaped my braid and stuck to my dirtied face; they could never stay in place.

The air was still, the night sky above me starless and polluted with heavy smoke. The Black Gate loomed above me in hindsight like a rising tide, looking scarier than I ever imagined it on the outside. The Towers of the Teeth, Carchost and Narchost, looked like the spiked horns of a Balrog.

I knew what was built on the inside. It was the place I called my home as well as my personal prison, but never a cage. It was my playground and my sanctuary, but something I knew my whole life and no longer found particularly interesting. It was beautiful and boring...but why do I now feel so haunted? Why does the gate now look like something I should be running far away from, like its barricades would unsheathe its set of teeth and eat me whole like some dark, evil beast of Cirirth Gorgor?

Slowly sitting up and scooting out from beneath the barrow, wincing as my back protested and my head swam painfully from the spot where I hit, I groaned and pulled my sore legs up, wrapping my arms around them before placing my head between my knees. Taking deep, gulping breaths, I tried to force my nausea down. The smell in the air didn't help, weighing heavily with the odor of smoke, ash, and decay. And...blood?

Uneasiness stirred as I slowly lifted my head with opened eyes, turning it slightly to my right...and doubled backward with a loud gasp, a squeak replacing a muted scream when my gaze fell upon the body of a ranger. A ranger from the Black Gate. Was he someone I knew? I couldn't know, because in place of any face or hair was a bloody stump, flesh bits still ripped at the sides from a messy kill. His head...gone! Oh, Eru!

Hyperventilating, I scrambled backward until my back hit the barrow's wheel, barely containing a scream. My strength returned like a flood as my hand gripped the edge of the barrow's cart while shakily rising to my feet. My legs felt weak and wobbly like jelly. While standing, I got a better view of the field, the landscape running alongside the Morannon Wall, and immediately wished I didn't.

There were bodies scattered everywhere. The bodies of rangers. Mutilated and butchered. I was the only living being standing among the dead.

My hand flew to my mouth. I began to double over, tears of shock springing from my wide, horrified eyes. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't process it. Everyone was dead. Everyone I knew and grew up around was laying like bloody, broken dolls before me, scattered and left unmourned. Nobody was alive. Everybody was gone. _Everybody._

Was my family among them? The thought made me sick. Literally sick.

Bile began to rise from the pit of my stomach. Hand still covering my mouth and my need to gag strong, I finally tore my gaze away when scurrying blindly off to the side until my raised arm pressed heavily against the wall. Leaning against its stone-metal barriers, I collapsed on my knees and leaned over, vomiting all over the gravel.

When there was nothing left to hurl, I wretched with heavy sobs, my arms wrapped around my torso and hot tears running down my cheeks as I kept gasping for air. The need to scream was strong, but for some reason, I couldn't. My stomach clenched with a stabbing pain, my grief and my terror strong and surreal, but perhaps it was denial overtook my mind. This was a nightmare. It _had_ to be a nightmare.

I already remembered what happened before now. As I wept, reluctant memories flashed in my mind as well as the voices.

_They had attacked, late in the night, while I had been sleeping. I woke up with a start from the distant sound of screams coming from outside my bedchamber. Outside of the fortress of Narchost. Throwing back my covers, I leapt out of my bed and ran to the window, barefoot in my night dress, my braid matted from the pillow. _

_Through the glass window pane, it was still dark out, raining heavily. I couldn't see anything, not even the ground from bellow the Wall, but I could hear the screams echoing as clear as day, some of them sounding like the screeches and snarls of wild dogs. More like wild wargs._

Orcs! _the first thought in my head screamed. Chills crawling through my bones, my heart sped up in alarm as I dashed to the open doorway leading to the hallway. I stopped at the edge, hands gripping the sides as I peered stone-tiled hallway, looking to my right...until there was a gurgling scream. My head whipping left, I gasped when seeing the body of a man crumple, impaled through the chest, and in his place appeared the mangled, armored form of an orc._

_When it looked up, lightning flashing from the outside to light up the inside, the orc snarled at me with rotten teeth and charged._

_Wide-eyed, I immediately withdrew and slammed the door, bolting the lock before feeling the body slam against the wood. After the door shook under the tremendous impact, the orc's growls sounding on the other side, I kept my weight against the door to lessen the force...until the tip of blackened pike cracked through the wood, causing me to scream in fright and retreat backward. _

_As the orc kept pounding against the door, screeching, "Where are ye, li'l bird? I'll have yer pretty li'l scalp!", I scrambled to the other side of the small room to my cabinet. Pulling open the drawer, my hands scrambled through feathers, papers, marbles-my fingers closed around the hilt of a small knife._

_It was a letter opener, really. A gift from my thirteenth birthday. Both a tool and a weapon...though not a large enough weapon, in my opinion. _

_"I'll make do with yer hide!" the orc shouted from the doorway. Another blade protruded with a loud crack. "C'mere!"_

_"I would like to see you try!" I shouted, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. I was standing in position, in my nightgown, holding a blade only slightly bigger than my own hand. When the door kept shaking harder than ever, more blades pounded through the woods, the sounds of at least two or three more orcs on the other side, I screamed, "HELP!"_

_Once those orcs broke down the door, I was dead. Where was everyone? How many orcs were there? Where was my family?_

* * *

(Talion)

_On the Morannon in the heavy rainstorm, the air smelling thickly of water and blood, Talion clashed swords with a Uruk. "I'll have your guts!" the creature growled in his face. Blood boiling, Talion managed to push it back and gutted the Uruk with his sword, blood and bone breaking under his thrust, killing the monster instantly. _

_"Dirhael!" he yelled, blinking in the heavy rain as the body of the orc fell. _

_His son was on the other side of the Moranan, slashing swords with two other Uruks, easily dispatching them. He chopped off the head of one, shouting back, "I'm alright!", before thrusting his blade up through the head. Talion nodded. He taught him well. _

_As many more orcs kept coming, Talion and Dirhael kept fighting at charging Uruks, the only rangers, captain and apprentice, now standing. "My blade shall rest in your throats, filth!" shouted Dirhael, as he chopped down another Uruk._

_"Dirhael," yelled Talion, feeling wiped from all the fighting, "remember your training!"_

_"Father, they charge faster than I can strike!"_

_"Stand fast, Dirhael!"_

_"Their deaths are far from swift, Father!" Dirhael yelled back in frustration, as he pushed back another orc with his foot after stabbing it. _

_"Remember, son, lunge deep and cut deeper!" As a demonstration, Talion's strokes on another beefy Uruk went in a semicircle, knocking the vermin off his feet, before stabbing in sword downward into its throat on the ground like impaling meat._

_Talion butchered another one, but when he turned, he saw his son get knocked down by a larger Uruk and his world turned red._

_ "Dirhael!" he screamed, and charged forward with an enraged roar. Hearing his cry, the Uruk turned around, away from the lad as Talion jumped in sight and clashed swords with it, but the enemy snuck out another blade and stabbed it forward. Earning a scratch near his ribs, Talion grunted, but then Dirhael stabbed it deeply into its side from the ground. Just for good measure, Talion slashed the Uruk from the groin up across its face, completely slicing it in half and spilling black blood everywhere on the watery ground. _

_When it fell, Talion winced and clutched his wounded side, while Dirhael jumped to his feet in panic, screaming,"Father!"_

_"Are you alright, son?" gasped Talion, reaching for him._

_"I'm fine. You're_ _hurt!"_

_"It's nothing. It's just a scratch." Shaking off the pain, Talion straightened up and gripped his sword, gesturing to Dirhael. "Come on. Stay close to me."_

_Back to back, father and son battled other oncoming Uruks. When all the vermin were down, they ran to the door of Narchost, out of breath and their sword still readied. Bodies lay everywhere, of humans and orcs alike. They were the last two standing._

_"These orcs are much stronger than any we've ever seen," panted Dirhael. His long hair was completely drenched, limp around his young pale face, eyes weary with fear and anger, but completely alert._

_Talion shook his head. "They're not orcs, they're Uruks. They're far worse and there's too many." Talion looked at him, making a decision, and carefully opened the door a crack into the monolith. "Go find your mother and sister." Dirhael opened his mouth to protest, but Talion repeated firmly, "Go find your mother and sister. Find them, and keep them safe."_

_"But what about you?" asked Dirhael, looking concerned. "You just said there's too many..."_

_"Don't worry about me. You focus on getting yourself, your mother, and sister out of here. I'll be right behind you." Talion gave him a small smile and reached out to caress his son's face tenderly, sending a silent message to him, before saying softly, "Go."_

_After hesitating, Dirhael set his jaw firm and nodded in understanding, eyes shining. Talion then pushed his son gently inside and closed the door quietly. Heart heavy, he leaned against the door and sighed heavily, feeling the rain soak through his hair and cloak. He thought of all the men that had fallen around him, their deaths brutal and bloody, and shut his eyes in pain._

Please, _he prayed in his mind. _Please, keep them safe. I ask for nothing else. If I should fall, let them live. They are everything. Keep them safe.

_In his heart, he felt that it may be the last time he saw his son, already fighting bravely like a real warrior. Talion never thought he would be more proud of him. But he was._

_He heard more Uruks coming. Face hardening and eyes narrowing dangerously through the rain, he gritted his teeth and charged forward at the incoming monsters, ready to plunge his bade into more orc meat._

* * *

(Elanor)

_I was behind the side of my bed, sitting with my back to the wall, holding the knife to my chest in a tight grip. Tears blurred my eyes as my breathing heightened, hearing the cracks on the door grow louder._

_"Come out, li'l mite! We won't bite...MUCH!" The orcs laughed at their rhyme and hooted as they came close to breaking down the door. A sob escaped me, but I braced myself. The room was small with two beds (one of them formerly my brother's, before he moved out to join the young Ranger training groups), a cabinet, a desk shelving some books, a wardrobe, and a small table with a mirror. The window framed in between the beds, its diamond-shaped glass drenched with rain like shedding tears. Unfortunately, there were also bars outside of that window. Courtesy from my grandfather, who had enough of my escapades._

_I silently cursed him again, as I had the last time he ordered this restriction. It quite literally felt like I was in a cell, imprisoned for the need of getting out. The Black Gate was, after all, a sanctum for prisoners, not just a stronghold between Mordor and and everywhere else, or an iron doorway sealed through the mountain pass of Cirith Gorgor. Now, because of this stupid new rule, I was trapped and had nowhere to escape. _

_Suddenly, the orcs let out more snarls and crashing stopped, replaced by the clashing sounds of blades, mixed with the shrieks of those monsters. I curled up in a ball, tucking my head to my chest with the knife's hilt pressed to my head, trembling as I waited._

_There were multiple thumps, grunts, and more shrieks...then silence. Lifting my head, I held my breath, listening, my heart pounding._

_The knob started jerking stiffly, restarting my terror and tightening my grip on the knife, thinking it was another Uruk. Then Dirhael's voice called out, "El, it's me! Are you in there? Let me in!" He knocked on the door hard. _

_My mind dizzy with relief, I jumped unsteadily to my feet and went to the door, which was so battered with wooden cracks that it was a wonder it hadn't snapped in half yet. As soon as I unbolted the door, Dirhael burst through and I found myself crashing into his embrace. _

_"Rae!" I cried. He tightened his arms around me, his sword gripped one hand while his other dug into my hair. My face buried in his chest, where I can hear his heart pounding intensely as he tried to catch his breath from the fight. I couldn't stop shaking, more from terror than from the cold. _

_"It's alright, El, it's alright," he whispered as he hugged me. I found comfort in my big brother, being a good taller than me and much broader, but also with a soothing tone that helped keep my nightmares at bay. It did little good at this point, our garrison suddenly overcome with bloodthirsty orcs (my mind could hardly wrap around the idea), but it helped a little that I was no longer alone. _

_Dirahel then pulled back and took my shoulders, bending slightly to meet my eyes. He looked all soaked from the rain outside, his hair drenched, a bloody scratch on his forehead and his arms and chests covered in black stains of muck. His expression was serious but frantic; one year as an apprentice, and he had already grown a lot, I had noticed. "Elanor, we have to get out here now! There's too many Uruks and they have already killed most of the garrison!"_

_"Uruks?"_

_"Like orcs, only bigger. Worse in every way."_

_"I know what they are, brother! Where is Mother and Father?" I demanded, my voice wavering. I was one hairbreadth away from breaking down in panic. Oh, how I envied Dirahel's self-control sometimes! Then again, he was the elder and I was scared to death, still not quite knowing what was going on or what was happening on the outside. _

_"Father and I were fighting on the bridge. He sent me to find you and Mother. So far, I've only found you."_

_"You just left Father?!" I burst out, mixed with anger and panic._

_"He gave me an order, Ellie!" snapped Dirhael, hand wrapped around the back of my neck. "He is also my Captain, and this is an order I am willing to obey if it will get us all out alive!" He pushed me toward the wardrobe, before moving to guard the door. "Get dressed! Hurry! We have to leave the Black Gate before they swarm the exits!"_

_"What if they already did?" I said, while pulling out my trousers, green knee-length dress, and boots. I hastily pulled off my nightgown with Dirhael's back to me and started slipping them all on."My arrows are in the weaponry and Mother could be anywhere! We have to find her, Rae!" My tone became desperate and small. _

_"I know, I know!" Dirhael growled, running a hand through his soaked hair in frustration. "I am mostly thinking about this as I go. Just hurry up! I think I hear more coming!"_

_"Oh, Arda!" I whimpered, hopping while slipping on my boots. One time I had said aloud that I wondered what it would be like to see an orc-or in this case, a Uruk-in a real battle. I did see one once…outside the Gate….but that was years ago._

_Now, as Dirhael grabbed my hand and had readied Acharn for any oncoming enemies while we started running through the hallways of the tower, I desperately wished I had never asked._

* * *

(Talion)

_In the main hall of Narchost, Ioreth was going to scream after she watched a Uruk fall dead in front of her from a stab wound, but it was Talion who appeared and covered her mouth. "Sh, sh, we must must hide now or we are both dead," he whispered in her ear. "Come on." They bent down low, allowing themselves to move with the shadows as the noises of Uruks kept erupting. When the noises dimmed slightly, Talion and Ioreth managed to reach the side of an overturned table, one of many, that blocked them from any escalating eyes. _

_They let out their breath, Ioreth started breathing heavily against the table, her eyes wide with fear. Talion reached up and cupped her face, turning her gaze towards his. He looked her over for wounds, for the filthy Uruk had been about to attack her before Talion slaughtered it, but found on a scratch on her arm. _

_"Ioreth?" he said quietly. "Ioreth...look at me. I'm right here, my love. Right here. We are going to get out of here."_

_Ioreth blinked, her gaze focusing on his, but they held no less sorrow. "My father?" she said hoarsely. _

_Talion hesitated, but then he shook his head. Ioreth placed a hand over her mouth and let out a small sob, her shoulders shaking. He gently pulled her towards him and let her head rest on his shoulder, keeping his arms wrapped securely around her. She made no noise as he held her, but gave her a few moments to recollect herself. There was no time for grief; their focus had to be their survival. The Rangers' Garrison was no more. With the amount of people dead, the Black Gate was already lost._

_"We should have left when we had the chance," whispered Ioreth, her voice shaking with tears._

_"Even then, we couldn't have prevented your father's fate," said Talion, placing his forehead in her hair. "You know what his choice would have been. He was as impenetrable as the stone and iron wall he guarded. A true soldier of Gondor."_

_Ioreth sniffed and nodded in his shoulder, taking a deep breath. Then she stiffened and pulled back, looking at him with wide brown eyes."Talion," she whispered frantically. "Dirhael and Elanor...where are our children?"_

_Talion paled. "Dirhael never found you?" he breathed. Though he knew Dirhael knew how to defend himself (he had taught that lad better than he remembered), the occurring thought of his son being injured or dead sent a stab of panic in his body. Elanor had been sent to bed a couple hours before the night invasion. Did the Uruks reach her room? Did they...He felt very sick at the possibility and could only hope that that his daughter had woken up in time to realize what was happening and attempt to protect herself. Because if not, he hoped that was the first place Dirahel went to after Talion sent him off to find the mother and daughter. His Elanor..._

_Ioreth shook her head fearfully."I was trapped in the kitchens. I barely made it out when...Oh, Talion, we have to find them-" __She was cut off suddenly by the sound of Uruks entering the great fortress. Looking at Ioreth, Talion put a finger to his lips before inching slightly upward to peer over the table, holding his sword ready. They tossed over tables and kicked barrels. There were four or five of them, berating each other and flickering their yellow eyes in all directions._

_"Don't move. I will clear a path," he whispered to Ioreth, still glaring at the Uruks. "I'm outnumbered. Stealth is my only advantage."_

_"Be careful, my love."_

_Talion glanced at her, his expression softening at the sight of her. He then leaned forward and kissed her lips, cupping her face and brushing away her tears as he tasted her warmth and desperation, but also the strength and love that she returned. Letting their kiss last a few moments, they paused and leaned their foreheads against each other. Talion's eyes found hers, seeing into each other's very soul. "Always," he breathed. He gave her a peck on the nose, earning a slight smile from her, and that reassured him more. "Stay here."_

_Talion twisted around in his crouch and started crawling along the sides of the tables, readying his sword as he neared the first orc._

_In less than ten minutes, Talion had already tore into the last Uruks' throat, one that had been digging into the body of another Ranger, buying a bloody silence. Letting the creature drop to the ground like trash, he thought about how many others surrounded the monolith. Perhaps a hundred, if not more...but if they were all careful and clever, he believed that they can-_

_He heard Ioreth scream. Turning around, his heart froze when he saw his wife trapped in the hands of a tall, armored Numenorean, his huge blade at her throat. "Put the sword down, Ranger!" he ordered. __Ioreth gasped when the blade drew blood at her neck. "Now!"_

_Jaw clenching, Talion obeyed without question. When he dropped the sword, something large and hard hit him heavily from behind, causing searing pain between his shoulder as he fell to his knees. As the blows kept coming, kicking him over in the ribs and face repeatedly, Ioreth cried out for him, "Talion, no!"_

_Sprawled on the ground, bloodied from the blows, Talion coughed as he tried to catch his breath, struggling to prop himself up. His sides were on fire, including the wound near his hip that opened wider, and his vision was foggy. He managed to look up and get a brief glimpse at his attacker, finding it to be a tall, vicious humanoid in battle armor, armed with an iron mace. The foot collided into his wound, causing a few ribs to crack and Talion to choke on an agonized cry as he fell back down. _

_He gritted his teeth and groaned. No matter how much this monster beat him, Talion will not scream. Not with Ioreth watching._ Ioreth..._With trembling arms and troubled breathing, he struggled to get back up. His eyes were fixed on Ioreth, whose arms were trapped in the giant's massive clutches, her face streaked with tears as her eyes watched him with horror. Face scrunched with anguish, his teeth stained with blood, he slowly started to drag himself towards her, his breathing ragged._

_Bemused by the Ranger's resistance, the monstrous being raised his mace for a killing, but Ioreth's tall, back-bladed captor blocked the weapon with a curled, double-edged sword. "The Black Hand wants him alive."_

_With one arm free, Ioreth started to reach out to her husband. "Talion..." she sobbed. The sound of her voice wrenched his heart, making him forget his physical wounds._

_"Ioreth," croaked Talion, reaching desperately for his wife with a trembling hand. Their fingers barely brushed when she was snatched away and Talion was kicked to the ground, the breath knocked out of him entirely. He was absolutely certain that some ribs were broken._

_"No! No, let me go! Talion!" screamed Ioreth, as she was tossed over to a huge Uruk and swung over the shoulder of the beast._

_The monstrous man swung his lance down...and stabbed Talion's hand. Talion screamed in agony as he watched the blood lace his palm from the punctured wound._

_"No!" _

_Like a trigger, Talion's head lifted instantly at the voice, which did not belong to Ioreth. Behind the leg of the giant armored humanoid, he spotted two figures, one taller than the other, standing at the large narrow passage to the fortress halls. When lightning flashed, the shadowy figures lit up, revealing Dirhael and Elanor, whose horror reflected his own as they stared at the scene in front of them. His heart went to his throat at the sight of them, especially Elanor, who shocked eyes filled with frightened tears._

_"Grab the Ranger's spawn!" ordered the towering figure the other nearby Uruks, while Ioreth screamed, "NO! Leave them alone!"_

_His mind screamed with his wife. Fear for his children's lives reactivated some of his strength. He found their wide eyes shining in the darkness, hazel and blue. Helpless to do anything else to protect them, there was only one thing he could do…._

_"Dirhael, Elanor...go...RUN!" rasped Talion, bellowing the last word before collapsing back on the ground from exhausting pain, his hand burning like wildfire. In his half-conscious state, he watched Dirahel break out of his shock and grab Elanor's arm, before they whipped around and disappeared into the corridors, the Uruks trailing after them. Dirhael was armed...he will fight, protect his sister...they had to escape...they had to..._

Go, my children, _thought Talion weakly, still looking where they were last seen, their beautiful but terrified eyes becoming a memory burned into his soul. Ioreth's two greatest gifts to him, in this life and the next. _Remember that we love you...

_He barely heard the low, menacing voice of his attacker growl, "He will live."_

_It was the last thing he heard before he was struck and knocked out._

* * *

(Elanor)

_The sight before me had been one of my worst nightmares coming true: my parents held captive by two huge humanoid monsters in demonic armor. Worst than my worst nightmares, for it was very real and unimaginable. _

_I felt my blood run cold when we had reached the main hall of the fortress, hoping to find the coast clear, or at least both our mother and father gathering there. Father was one of the Black Gate's best fighting Rangers; it would take more than a battle charge of oversized orcs to take him down. Then again, as Dirhael described to me as we scurried quietly through the passages, our bodies pressed against the wall in the attempts to use the shadows as our veil, practically all of the Rangers of the Morannon were slain. Wiped out in the past hour, the stormy night outside full of darkness and mist that seemed to gleam red from the blood of the fallen. _

_There was no way of knowing who was still standing. This terrified the soul out of me, but I kept hold of my brother's hand tightly as slowly and quietly crept around the corners of Narchost's interior, familiar with the winding passages like the back of our hands. _

_A Uruk or two came roaming through the dark halls, but Dirhael would draw his sword and lunge the blade deep into their throats. My stomach turned at the sight, but I didn't complain. Better them than us._

_"No one will hear them scream that way," he had told me, wiping the black blood off of the blade. I noted that to myself, the next time I found a blade large enough to be proper weapon, unlike the pathetic little letter opener I still clutched near my hip, I would take his advice and give it go. I never killed before, not even for hunting with my bow and arrows, though it was obvious that that would soon all change when I didn't have choice. Speaking of my bow and arrows, which were still stacked in the room for weaponry, I doubted that there was chance that I could run over and fetched them without getting pounced by a Uruk first. If only my parents would have let me keep them in my room..._

_As Dirhael and I had run down the winding stairs of the monolith, breathless with fear and the restraint to keep ourselves from yelling for Mother, Father, Grandfather, anyone...we reached the bottom, about to dart straight into the great center hall...only to freeze when lightning flashed through the high windows and revealed that the room wasn't empty. _

_I heard my father's agonized scream and the roots of my hair rose in horror. _

_There was barely any time to get a proper look at these two deformed monsters standing in the center of the wreckage, but the taller gray one, who had a lipless mouth etched into a permanent growl, metal armor, and several long blades sticking into his back, tossed my mother over to a huge, bulky Uruk while the other humanoid with heavier bronze armor and a face pale as chalk had my father sprawled at his feet, soaked, bloodied and beaten. To my horror, the attacker's spear impaled right through father's hand before yanking back out, all stained red with blood. _

_"No!" I cried out impulsively, my voice echoing in the tower like a wraith. _

_Instantly, they all looked up, both of the monsters and my parents, while Dirhael and I stared back with wide eyes and gaping mouths, our faces pale as the snow of winter's frost._

_Father lifted his head after my cry echoed and met my gaze. Wet black hair drooped limply around his bleeding face, his body visibly shaking with the effort of propping on one arm. Blood puddled the ground where his wounded hand lay limp. The sight of my proud, invincible father lying bloodied and beaten close to death on the ground was so pitiful that my mind became very numb with shock and heartbreak. His hazel eyes were so full of anguish and terror that my own eyes filled with tears, though I still couldn't speak or move. _

_It was a sight I had never witnessed, and had hoped I never would. Not in a million lifetimes. _

Papa...

_"Grab the Ranger's spawn!" roared the taller, back-bladed monster._

_"No! Leave them alone!" screamed Mother, struggling and beating her fists helpless on the Uruk while swung over his shoulder. From the shadows, shapes of Uruks came charging out with unsheathed weapons, barking like dogs owned my their master._

_Father struggled to keep himself propped, his breathing ragged. "Dirhael, Elanor..." he rasped, his mouth filled with red and agonized eyes fixed directly on me and my brother, "...go...RUN!" Then his strength gave away and he fell back down with a heavy groan._

_Dirahel was the first to react. Breaking free from his shock, he instantly grabbed my arm and whipped us both around in the next passage to the left. He pulled me so hard that my arm nearly yanked out of its socket, but my legs instantly started working as we both charged blindly through the runways of the Morannon structure, tailgated by a group of hungry Uruks. _

_My mind was still too filled with the images of my mother and father. I wanted to cry and scream for them. The thought of those vermin touching my mother and beating up my father filled me up with rage and terror. If only I were taller and stronger like a man...maybe even more...I would crush those villains under my boot and scape their guts against the wall. They would have paid for their treachery in my wrath._

_But I wasn't. I was small, weak, and scared to death. Dirhael was my protector. Father was my protector, too, but look where he was now! I should protect myself! Why can't I, a mere girl raised in the Black Gate with barely the skill of a bow, the talent for sneaking, and the delight in exploration? Which one of those applied to the skills of a warrior? None!_

_When we made another sharp turn that lead to the other side of Narchost, hoping to reach the next exit of the Wall through a tunnel in the Ash Mountains, Dirhael and I halted with a gasp. _

_Barely concealed in the rain of the next crossing, a cloaked figure stood in our path. This was no Uruk, but another humanoid, though not quite as tall as the other two, nor as strong. In fact, he was as lithe as an elf with the appearance of a Ranger, but darker and full of malice. _

_Golden eyes glowed from beneath the cowl, quiet and luring like the cunning of a serpent, staring at us almost with curiosity...a sickly, sadistic curiosity. His mouth slowly curled into a menacing smile. He lifted his hand and slowly beckoned at us._

_"Back! Back!" cried Dirhael, pushing me backward while his sword toward the demonic figure, before we ran back inside the fortress._

_"There is nowhere to run," the cloaked man soft voice called out, his voice echoing in our ears as we turned the corner of the passages and charged back through the tower. _

_The Uruks came in our direction, about to attack, but Dirhael shoved me sideways before swinging his sword, clashing with the creatures' blows. I watched in horror and awe as my big brother took down both of those Uruks with a swing, thrust, stab, swing, thrust, stab...black blood sprinkling my face...when Dirahel swept his blade in a wide arc, it sliced cleanly through the Uruk's neck, its head flying off like a kickball. Almost instantly after the Uruks were dead, Dirhael was dirtied and panting for breath, his teeth bared and his face dirtied with orc blood, but it was the unfeeling gaze in his eyes that made me shiver._

_When Dirhael found me leaning against the wall, the light relit in his eyes and he was my brother again. "Come on!" He reached for me and pulled me after him._

_We kept running, hearing more footsteps charging in our direction as we ran up more stairs that lead further away from the exits, but we didn't have a choice. Eventually, we made another turn in another passage, found an open door, and made for it. While entering, we looked around and my stomach filled with dread at the small space in the room, the shelves containing bottles while sided with huge barrels._

_"We're in the wine cellar!" I exclaimed._

_"Aye, no kidding!" retorted Dirhael, though he turned around at the sound of incoming orcs and instantly slammed the door, bolting the lock. __The he ran to a nearby wine barrel and started heaving it. I went over to help him, knowing he was trying to further barricade the door. The barrel was very heavy, the contents inside sloshing around while we rolled it across the room and finally jammed it against the locked door._

_The cellar had no windows or doorways. It was basically one small, square-like room filled with shelves of wine and aged barrels of ale. It reeked of it, filling my lungs with its bad alcoholic scent. The only other opening in this chamber was the trap door in the corner, used for storing more supplies such as barrels, crates, and grain sacks. _

_We repeated the process until there were four barrels piled against our only way out and the enemies' only way in. "How is this going to help us?" I panted, while he and I shoved in the last barrel with a grunt. "This will not hold them forever!"_

_"It will buy us some time," said Dirhael, wiping the sweat from his brow, flicking away his hair strands._

_"Time for what? There's no way out!"_

_"Is there?"_

_Confused, I watched as he crossed the room and stopped near the trap door. Dirhael put aside his sword so that he could place both hands on the metal latch. With some effort, he yanked open the trap door with a loud rusty creak before regathering his weapon._

_At the same moment, the cellar's door started rattling from the hard impact of incoming intruders, which I leapt away from instantly. The sound of the Uruk's promising threats were heard from the other side, making my bones shake._

_"El, follow me!" said Dirhael, starting to climb the ladder. "Quickly!"_

_"There's still no way out down there, Rae!" I complained, though I obeyed and started climbing down after him. The room was pitch black and it smelled heavily of mixed agriculture and dirt. I then hopped off the last few steps and landed lightly on the hard floor. "They will know we're down here and come for us!"_

_"Not exactly," he said, pacing the dark room with observation. "Do you remember the channels built within the Wall to transport the Ranger troops' supplies at ground level?"_

_"Of course. I tried one before to sneak out a few times years ago, but I ended up slipping and breaking my leg from the speed and impact landing. You remember," I said, slowly starting to realize my brother's plan. Father placed a guard on each one ever since, and I started climbing up and down the Wall instead._

_"Well, you weren't the only one who thought of that idea." His mouth twitch with bleak amusement before crossing the chamber and shoved a crate out of the way. "When I was younger, this would be my escape route, when the wine cellar was unguarded and unlocked. Unfortunately, it's structured on the side of Mordor and the landing will be very uncomfortable, dangerous even, but it leads directly out of the Wall and onto the ground."_

_On the bottom wall of the chamber was a small square tunnel tilted into a steep downslope, the entrance blocked by a metal-barred door latch. I then remembered this channel, having seen sacks, flasks, and other packages flying out from the pothole in the fort from the outside. _

_Right now, though, I couldn't help but think about how small-spaced it was. It brought up a wave of claustrophobia. Many times I wished this cursed Wall wasn't so damn heavily fortified, both inside and out. But clearly not as impenetrable as we thought. For a moment it made me wonder how the Uruks got in and took the garrison by surprise. It had to have taken something very powerful and very familiar with the Black Gate's defenses to have barged in._

_There was a crashing sound from above and a beastly shriek of displeasure. They were close to breaking through and we were trapped with only a tiny channel for a unlikely escape or a fight to the death like cornered prey._

_"It's the only way out," insisted Dirhael, reading the doubt and fear I felt in my expression._

_Heart pounding, I shook my head. "No, it's too small," I told him. There was absolutely no way Dirahel and I would fit in there together. Dirhael alone wouldn't even have a chance, being too big and wide in the shoulders. Clutching my little letter opener tighter, hearing the orcs above us, I attempted to replace my panic with defiance. _

_"We have to fight, brother. There's no other-Hey!" I yelped when Dirhael grabbed me and pulled me over until we both knelt next to the channel entrance._

_"You're not listening!" he snapped. He pulled open the caged door latch. After moving his hand around the corners of the pitch-black tunnel, he turned to face me urgently. He did not waver when he said, "Elanor, this may be your only chance of escape."_

'Your_ chance__,' not 'our.' The truth hit me with full force. I felt all the blood drain from my face, making it hard to breathe. He couldn't actually be implying...He can't be serious..._

_"No!" I gasped quietly, staring at him with wide, horrified eyes. I felt sick._

_Dirhael tightened his mouth, finding it difficult to look me in the eye with the quiet fear and anguish that appeared in his hazel gaze. Our father's eyes, from back in the main hall. "The channel is small and narrow, but Ellie, you're a tiny girl. You should be able to slide right through. The impact from the landing will be unpredictable, but I think I recall a wagon of seed sacks placed beneath the exit of this one. It should save you from broken bones..."_

_"Stop! Stop!" I shouted, scooting away in horror. "I will _not_ leave you, Dirhael! Are you mad? I will not flee like a coward in the night while you, Father, and Mother-"_

_"Would you have their sacrifice be for nothing?!" he shouted back, both angry and desperate. "I can't get out, but _you_ can! You have to!"_

_"I would rather fight!"_

_"You _cannot_ fight!" he argued. "Not with that knife!"_

_"I can_ try!"_ I held up my letter opener, my jaw trembling. "Even if I have to use my own nails, I will tear their filthy eyes out if I must!"_

_"Elanor, stop this!" He grabbed my wrist. "You're being a fool!"_

_I yanked my arm forcibly away. "_I'm_ not the one playing a martyr!"_

_"No, _you_ are the one talking about suicide! About diving into a fight we cannot win!"_

_"It is not suicide to choose fighting side by side with my family," I pleaded, barely feeling the tears running down my face. "Please, Rae! You are all I have now...but if Mother and Father are still alive, there may be a chance that we can save them!" I knew this was wishful thinking, but I could not accept that my parents were dead and clung to the hope that I could escape with my family by my side. I would not abandon them. "Please, brother..."_

_Dirahel stared up at me in his kneeling position, conflict battling across his features while I stood in front of him, trembling, and the noise above grew louder. I thought he was going to refuse, to argue, and prepared for it...but finally he closed his eyes and nodded. "Alright, El! Get into position, but leave most of the fighting to me, alright?"_

_His tone sounded soft and tight, making me feel uneasy, but I really believed he relented. Thankful that he understood, I nodded and then turned around to face the ladder, ready for the Uruks to break through the entrance from above and start dropping down-_

Clunk!

_Something heavy and rock-hard rammed into the back of my skull, causing purple stars to burst in my eyes before going dark. My legs started to crumple, but the strong arms of my brother caught me before I fell over. Barely conscious, the stabbing pain in my skull overwhelmed my senses, a moan escaped my throat as I shifted weakly against my brother..._

_"Sh, sh, sh," Dirhael hushed, while placing his other arm under my legs and lifted me. As he carried me, my head fell limply against his shoulder. He then knelt down, lowering me upright in his lap, and wrapped his arms around me until warmth seeped in. His cheek placed on top of my head, he sounded all choked up with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Ellie. I hate it...I hate doing this, but you didn't give me a choice."_

_The slightest stir of mixed feelings touch my nerve: shock, betrayal, and fear. "Dir..." I tried to speak, but my tongue was too numb from the fuzzy flare in my head that threatened to pull me into unconsciousness. _Why...why...he never hit me...not like this...like a coward, he always called it...but why would he..._ "Rae..." I tried again._

_He kissed the top of my head before leaning lifting my face to meet his. Through my fuzzy vision, I saw heavy tears in his eyes. "It's unlikely we'll see each other in this life, little sister," he said softly, "and I wish we didn't part like this...but please don't hate me after this." _

_He forced a trembling smile, hazel eyes shining in the darkness. He looked grown up. My strong, loving big brother, who was so close to being a Ranger. He stroked my braid and brushed the loose strands out of my face."You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Elanor. You really are. I have enjoyed you immensely as my kind, funny, and adventurous little sister. I have never been more thankful for such a gift. _Never_ lose sight of that, Ellie."_

_"Rae..." A tear escaped my eye at I stared through heavy eyelids, my voice small and shaking now. My heart hurt far more than my head now, and I felt so helpless to do anything but slur. "Please..."_

_He wiped away my tears and leaned over to kiss my forehead, his stubble tickling my skin. After a long moment, he hugged me to him tightly, his body shaking. From his grief or his fear...maybe both. "Forgive me," he whispered in my ear. "I love you, little sister. So much. Na lu e-govaned vin." He kissed the side of my face._

_A whimper escaped my numb mouth. Sindarin, like from our classes. It meant: _Until next we meet.

_"No, Rae..." I moaned sluggishly, struggling feebly when he picked me again. I tried hitting him, but my head hurt so much that they didn't put much force. A crashing sound came from above, and Dirhael quickly lifted me feet first into the channel. I kept trying and failing to struggle when my booted feet dipped into the the dark shaft. The opening was just about wide enough for my hips to easily slip through. "Rae!" My voice was growing stronger with tearful panic._

_Dirhael just kept forcing my body through the channel, his breathing quickening raggedly the further I was lowered in. "Get as far from this place as you can! Go North, like you always wanted," he rasped, brokenly. His grip tighten on my arms as he held me over the slope. When I managed to lift my head, his face looked down at me, his shining eyes full of anguish and love. I would never forget that face."I love you, Elanor!"_

_He then let go and pushed me downward at full speed, my hands still extended over my head._

"Dirhael!"_ I screamed, my voice echoing in the tunnel as his face shrunk from view above, staring after me until darkness swallowed it._

_I don't remember how I landed, except how much it hurt before I blacked out._

* * *

(Talion)

_In the heavy rain, where the mist was so thick that it was impossible to know where they were taken, Talion had awoken with the ground made of artificial stone. The Morannon? His head stabbed with pain from the knockout, but was very aware that he was half-dangling on his knees from the grip of the man who had beaten him unconscious. When Talion looked up, he practically doubled in horror when he found Ioreth being held to her knees in front of him by the huge Uruk commander, staring back at him with her expression full of despair. To his left, also kneeling in the clutches of the back-bladed Numenorean, was Dirhael, who was struggling to keep his face stoic but was failing when terror started breaking through at the sight of his father, a trail of blood running down the side of his face from where he was hit. _

_There was no sign of Elanor. _

_Talion was not sure whether he should be relieved or even more terrified. He didn't know whether his little girl was dead or still running about, alone and scared. He tried to meet Dirhael's gaze, but all he found there was a switch between anxiety and grief. Dirhael met his eyes and managed to gasp wretchedly, "I'm sorry, Father. I'm sorry...I couldn't..."_

_His heart plummeted. There was nothing reassuring in his son's expression and Talion wanted to break down. But he wouldn't. He had to stay strong for his son. For Ioreth. He managed to meet her gaze and tried to show it to her, tried to will his thoughts to her, that everything was going to be alright, even when it was false..._

_Out of the mist, a black figure walked before the circle, his gray face dead as though uninterested in the scene before him. The back-bladed monster who continued holding a struggling Dirhael said to the cowled Numenorean in a smooth voice, "You are so certain this will complete the ritual?"_

_"We should have went after the girl! Without her, there is no guarantee!" growled Talion's captor, who yanked the injured Ranger's arm painfully. Talion gasped, but not from the pain. His daughter was still out there. He looked at Dirhael as if pleading for confirmation, but his son kept his head turned, giving nothing away. _

_The hooded man only glanced over briefly, before walking over and seizing Dirhael's chin, who bared his teeth up at the creature. The black Numenorean tilted his head. "No...we only needed one," he whispered. "It is known."_

_"Take your hands off him!" snarled Talion, struggling against his captor's hold as his hatred burned for the man touching his son._

_What he received next was a blow to the side by the mace, causing Talion to cry out from the fire that doubled from his already broken ribs. Then another. And another. He faintly heard Ioreth and Dirhael crying out for him, pleading for this cruel act to stop. The hooded man just stepped away, looking bored as he paced around in the rain._

_Talion keeled over further as the armed humanoid continued beating him across the stomach with his mace. He was so battered that his breaths came out shallow and cut off, his body going into the shock with amount of wounds and beating he received. _

_"Enough," said the hooded man in soft, menacing whisper that cut through the air like a sword._

_When it finally stopped, Talion hung limp, but was forced back up onto his knees. His wounds grounded into his body, tearing into his sides and weakening him dangerously. When Talion lifted his head, he saw Ioreth leaning over in sobs, her head bowed, while Dirhael just looked on after having screamed his heart out, silent tears running from his eyes, even when covered with rain drops. Talion had never seen him look so broken._

_The hooded man then walked back to the circle, unsheathing a long silver sword that gleamed dangerously in the rain. With a simple gesture of the blade, Talion watched in horror as the back-bladed Numenorean forced Dirhael forward on the ground, before pulling him back to extend his chest. _

No! _Talion struggled helplessly. Every fiber of his being screamed, _No! Not him! Please, no! Not him! My son! My son! Kill me! Kill me instead! Just not him!

_Now the terror showed clear as day on Dirhael's face as he looked up at Talion. "Father..." His voice cracked in fear, sounding like a child. His captor smirked in amusement at their torture._

_Talion wanted to shout, to shriek, to tear apart that lipless smirk on his son's captor with his bare hands. He wanted to throw himself on top of his son and block him from the sword coming in his direction to seal his fate. But helpless to do neither of these things, it was everything Talion could do to keep himself together as he kept his eyes on the face of his son, who never looked so much like the little boy he raised since the moment he was born. _Not him! Not him! He's just a boy! Not my son! Please, no!

_"Dirahel, look at me," he said, his voice rough and cracked as he struggled to not break. He was there for Dirhael in his first moments, so he will be there for his last. When Dirhael kept his gaze on his father, Talion nodded encouragingly, even though his eyes filled with hot tears."I'm right here, son. I'm right here!"_

_Though still terrified, Dirhael's face calmed slightly as he took in his father's strength, their gaze never breaking away even as the blade neared. "I love you, Father," he said with a small voice, tearing right through Talion's heart deeper than the sharpest blade._

_What happened next would forever burn into Talion's memory and shatter something in his soul forever._

_"Ghururrnu skirkush agh azgushu," spoke the hooded black Numenorean. "Zant ya apakurizak. Gul-n anakhizak..."* The Ranger watched as the blade drew across the ground and tore deeply across his son's chest, the tearing sound mixing with Dirhael's gag, blood instantly spilling on the ground from the huge gap in his entire chest. Watching their son be gutted before their eyes, Ioreth let out a strangled scream that echoed through the skies, while Talion's strength finally shattered and the Ranger let out a broken cry that shook his already broken body. The back-bladed Numerorean then discarded Dirhael on the ground, the puddle of blood spreading rapidly into a pool beneath the lad's dying body._

_Sobbing wretchedly, Talion sank further onto his knees and felt his body shake violently as he leaned over his precious boy who was bleeding before his eyes. He watched as his son's breathing began to slow, but Dirhael weakly moved his hand a few inches in the direction of his father, his eyes shifting sightlessly upward in the rain. There was so much blood..._

_Talion longed to hold that hand, but still trapped and helpless, he sobbed softly, "Dirhael...I'm here, son...Dirhael..." He could still hear Ioreth's screams for her baby boy in the background._

_Rain pattering his face like tears, Dirhael let out a slight wheeze at his father's voice and then breathed out his last word, "Ellie..." Then he went still, his eyes dulled and open. Talion let out another cry, but nothing could still the unending agony that tore through his soul. Through his mind. He wanted it to end. He wanted to die. He wanted _them_ to die._

_It was when his captor yanked him back upright that Dirhael's body left his sight and his eyes found Ioreth. Her face was twisted in pure agony, her eyes red with tears in the rain. She was staring at him with such broken grief that Talion wished he could hold her and beg for her forgiveness. For failing their son. For being helpless while watching their firstborn child be brutally murdered in cold-blood...for the unthinkable had happened and while not knowing the fate of their daughter, Talion knew Ioreth lost the will to live._

_As the monster who murdered his son started coming toward his wife, Talion shook his head in denial, his heart still twisted in his grief as the fear for losing his love bled out openly."Ioreth," he moaned, his voice still heavy with tears. He was pleading, with her, the monster, or the world, he did not know or care, but he knew that he was going to lose her, too. "Ioreth..." _

_Ioreth met his gaze, her beautiful face distorted with despair and defeat, but her tearful brown eyes reading her undying love for him. For him and their children. "We will be together, my love," she told him in her tears, full of promise. "Soon! Forever!"_

We will see our son. _Talion knew it would be so. They both did. _Together.

_The cowled monster then approached Ioreth and took her chin until she faced him, her sorrowful eyes showing the briefest of fear and hatred. Talion wanted to destroy this creature on the spot, never feeling so much hatred for such a thing as he did now. He watched as the hooded black Numorean repeated the his soft chanting,"Ghururrnu skirkush agh azgushu. Zant ya apakurizak. Gul-n anakhizak..." The blade was then drawn across his wife's exposed throat._

_Talion let out another strangled sob of agony as he watched his beloved wife be discarded on the ground, rolled onto her back as blood poured out of her slit throat. She stared up at the raining sky as she bled out….her hand shifting upwards as though reaching for Talion, hearing his cries….and finally went still. _

_Talion had then went limp, bowing over the ground as his heart gave out in utter defeat. _

_He was done. _

_His life was over. _

_His wife and son were gone. _

_His daughter was lost, most likely dead._

_Footsteps approached him next. _

_He didn't even fight when his head was yanked upright, until he was facing his wife and son's murderer. _

_Soon to be his murderer as well._

_But it didn't matter._

_Nothing did...but knowing he will see his family soon._

_He was already dead._

_Shattered. Lifeless._

We will be together, my love...soon...forever...

_Though he did not see the hated monster before him in the darkness, Talion numbly lifted his chin to expose his throat as the blade lifted in his direction last. _

Just end it. Please….

_"Ghururrnu skirkush agh azgushu," whispered the hooded man in his Black Speech. "Zant ya apakurizak. Gul-n anakhizak..."_

_Talion was looking towards the blackened, stormy skies when he felt a searing pain slice across his extended throat, cutting off his air with gurgling sound, but that was it. He felt terrified for what was to come next, but his wife's last words to him echoed in his mind._

_He saw her face. Then his son's. Then his daughter's. All so beautiful, so perfect, and so cruelly taken away from him...but it will not be for long...no, nothing will ever keep him away from them...He felt his body weaken but he no longer felt afraid...all he longed for was the pain and emptiness to go away...for them to be safely in his arms again..._

_He will see them soon. Forever._

I'm coming, my love, _he thought, feeling a hot tear escape his eye._

_The black Numenorean then turned to the skies and spread his arms as if in welcome. "Come back to me, Elf Lord," he called out softly._

_Talion's world just about darkened when he felt a wave of cold electrify a body._

_Reality fell away and became bright with a white and blue light that blazed brightly like the sun. In the center revealed the the shape of bright, white phantom standing before him._

_Luring him forward. Beckoning him. Becoming him._

_Then darkness._

* * *

Still holding Ioreth in his arms, Talion finally laid her down next to Dirhael, the two lying side by side with their eyes now closed as though asleep. He dared not look at the wounds when he slowly stood up. He would bury them soon. He will put them to rest.

Then he will find his daughter. His little girl...he had to know what happened to her.

Standing there, silently observing the phantom shadows swirling around him, his skin tingled as he sense that he was not alone. The air stirred slightly with the newcomer's presence, sending more chills in his bones. It was so dark that there was no telling where he was. It did not feel like the Black Gate. The strangeness of it all unsettled him.

"What is this place?" whispered Talion, both to himself and the unseen newcomer.

His suspicions proved true when he turned around and nearly jumped when see the darkness dissolve into a bright white light. The bright light shaped into that of a person. A ghostly person. An elf, bearing armor, a bow and arrows, a circlet, and a face etched with deep scars.

Talion had heard of them in legends of Gondor, but had never believed them. Had never seen one for himself until now, though he never knew they glowed so brightly.

A wraith.

The elf wraith, still glowing brightly with a white light, moved his arm to point behind him. "See for yourself."

Hesitantly, Talion slowly walked forward, passing the wraith while the shadows around him finally began to clear. What he saw before him was the Black Gate, the sky filled with floating ashes and ember, the sky swirling with a mixture of gray and red. Talion leaned against the pillar of the tower in sorrow at the wreckage before him. He saw broken machinery, scattered bodies, and nearby structures that stood like remains of the past surrounding the fields of Cirith Gorgor.

"Mordor..." he breathed. He then turned around to face the wraith with dread.

"Now do you believe me, Ranger?" said the elf wraith grimly.

Heart pounding at full speed, Talion shook his head and walked swiftly across the tower, his breathing becoming anxious in his confusion. He stopped on the other side and stared at his hands. The wound in one of them was dried up; purple, like that of a corpse. "What has happened to me?" he said shakily.

_Why am I feeling like this? Why am I not dead? I was killed! They slit my throat! How am I here?_

The answer that came next nearly made him crumple. "You are banished from death," announced the wraith solemnly, causing Talion to stiffen. "Cast adrift between the worlds of light and dark. A curse binds us together within the walls of Arda."

Talion whipped around to face the cold-toned wraith. Everything in him wanted to deny this dead stranger's words. To drive him away, to distrust him.

But however suspicious he was of this mysterious elf, Talion could think of no other reason other than believing the elf's words. Did it have anything to do with the hooded Numenorean's ritual? A heavy flood of hatred for that murder blazed through Talion like venom. The truth of it was a cruel blow to him, a joke that continued to jab at his wounded heart and keep him further away from his family in the afterlife...but he had a feeling that this strange elf wraith was his only chance of fixing it. For he was not the only one trapped in the cruel life. They were bound together. He could feel it, from the cold rush of his blood seeping from the presence of this ghost.

Talion's gaze hardened when he looked the wraith in the eye, trying not to stare at the ugly scars on his transparent face. "If what you say is true," he whispered slowly, "then how do we break this curse?"

"We find the one who cast it upon us," answered the elf wraith darkly. "The Black Hand of Sauron."

_The Black Hand. _Talion turned around and slowly walked back to the edge that lead to the view of the Black Gate, his heart filling with ice as his tattered cloak fluttering the wind. The Morannon looked darker than ever, filled with the presence of evil. No longer the Wall he remembered as the Rangers' outpost.

The very thought of the hooded figure...the Black Hand of Sauron, he was called...continued to fuel a fire within Talion that he had never felt before. A fire that both burned him and filled him with coldest ice.

The Black hand and his two monstrous friends. They murdered his family. They had already killed him the moment he watched his son be butchered. His wife's throat be slit. Right before his eyes. His fists clenched tightly as his side until they shook. If his flesh drew blood, it would.

They did not even grant him the mercy of death, an escape from this world of agony! Because of them, he will never be at peace!

_They took everything from me._

Not only did he long, more than anything, to join his family in the afterlife...but while his pain was still all too real and very much alive, becoming his strength and rage...while he still walked on this earth for impossible reasons...

He wanted revenge.

* * *

_Black Speech Translation:_

*A sacrifice of blood and bone. A bridge for you to follow. You will emerge a shadow.

**Here would be the main title.**

**I honestly did not expect this chapter to be this long, but I hope it makes up for my delayed absence. I have to admit that I was a little terrified of writing this chapter because it's the most heartbreaking scene in the whole game, when Talion and his family are murdered in a sacrifice ritual. So cold-blooded and cruel. I was forced to watch the scene a few times to describe its display and I can never get used to it.**

**I wanted to make Dirhael a protective older brother who pretty much gave his life to his baby sister, Elanor. He never got to be a real Ranger, which was sad, but I wanted to give him a heroic moment before he died. Elanor is the heroine of the fanfic, though she's just a little teenage girl with not many fighting skills and very little experience of the world, which doesn't promise much considering the place she lived in her whole life, but think of it as character development and a young child who is being forced to grow up in a harsh environment. She will be forced to learn things that will save her life in Mordor, but at the same time will remain very human and compassionate, which would help both herself and her father. Possibly more characters:) I'm looking forward to getting there.**

**Enter Talion and Celebrimbor. She and her father will find each other soon enough, but wait until she meets the elven wraith. Heh heh! **

**Until next time:) Thank you so much for the follows and reviews! **


	5. Climbing Narchost

**Now that I'm past the three part chapters, time to move on to the real stuff. I personally thought that the young actress Raffey Cassidy was be the perfect profile for Elanor. I just think she's beautiful and energetic at the same time, who always seems to play a part in a dark movie, so it's perfect. And I think if she sang, it would sound pretty. Plus, she's just around the same age as Elanor. What do you think?**

**I'll be rotating between stories, but thank you for bearing with me on this one. Check out the Hobbit stories to keep you busy, if you're interested:)**

* * *

(Celebrimbor)

On the fortress, the elf wraith walked within the body of Talion, now a former Ranger captain of the Black Gate. They were bound by his vessel, body, mind, and soul. The elf was connected to the man physically and mentally. He could feel the tortured soul trapped within its dying host, which had still been clinging to life then the wraith was sucked into the Ranger's body, frozen from age and reanimated from the effect of mortal wounds. Banished from death.

As their souls became entwined, shocking and cold with a vertigo that took some time to calm, the wraith felt Talion's mind connect with his own. Exposed for him to touch and glimpse into if he pleased.

_So full of memories,_ he thought, _and yet here I am with none of my own. _

At the center of the pavilion, after Talion looked over the view of Cirith Gorgor, in his hand (in elf wraith's hand) appeared a sharp-edged hammer of mithril silver.

The elf wraith frowned thoughtfully. "This looks familiar," he murmured.

Its craft was undoubtedly beautiful, Elvish-make, and obviously made for smithing. Yet the elf wraith's spirit filled with a fiercer cold that made his very essence tremble. For some reason, the nameless elf wraith was afraid of this tool and hated it with every part his existence.

_But why? _Talion and the wraith's thoughts mingled together as one as they stared down as the smithing hammer. _Why does such beautiful craftsmanship become such a hated sight in our eyes? _

* * *

(Elanor)

_Forgive me. I love you, little sister. So much. Na lu e-govaned vin._

Forgive him?! He tricked me! He knocked me senseless and shoved me half-conscious down a chute! And to make things worse, he could be dead because I had been so foolish to believe him! With these thoughts, I choked on my sobs and my body shook as I wept in my hands, kneeling next to the turned over cart.

Many thoughts of what I should have done before haunted my mind. _I should have seen what he had been about to do. I shouldn't have turned my back on him. I should have known that he would have done anything to make sure I was safe._

Even when it costed his life.

_Get as far away from this place as you can! Go North, like you always wanted._

Dirhael never wanted me to go North. He wouldn't have said that unless he knew that there was no hope left for him.

_But how can I? Brother, how can you possibly think that would even try to leave without knowing what happened to you, Mother, and Father?! _I thought in complete despair.

"Dirhael," I whimpered softly, hugging my chest I bowed my head, letting silent tears run down my cheeks. "Mama...Papa..." I remembered calling them that when I was smaller. I felt small now. Vulnerable. Weak and desperate. Alone and frightened.

Something that I could not afford on my own. I could almost hear my grandfather's stern voice lecturing me now. _Enough! Tears will not help anyone, child. They expose weakness to others and to yourself. A waste of time. Better to armor your heart and face the outcome with unshaken dignity._

The opposite of what my mother would say. _Cry your tears, my flower. Let out your burdens and sorrows, or else they will eat you up inside. Once they have left you, you will feel stronger and lighter in mind and body._

Since neither were here, I began to wonder whose advice seemed wise to follow in this current situation.

It has been an hour since I came to and found the field of dead people laid out in front of the Black Gate, which remained sealed and motionless as ever, though darker and more wicked than ever in my lifetime.

I was taught that the Black Gate was one of the most guarded strongholds in all of Middle-Earth. It was nearly impossible to overcome and conquer because no one alive has seen it done. Not in thousands of years, at least.

And yet here it was, shrouded by darkness as thick as the plague. Here was the Morannon, once guarded by the Rangers of Gondor and Ithilien, now a cold and desolate monolith structure laid between a mountain pass in ruin. Empty and unguarded.

Or was it?

Once I had wept my tears and wiped them away, I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to clear as I studied my surroundings with a sickening churn in my stomach. Father always said a Ranger must have a clear mind and a sharp wit for the means of survival. I swallowed and took a deep breath, before opening my eyes and letting my resolve harden, fists clenched to my side, even as they shook. There was no reason to stray among a field of corpses and allow myself to be spotted by any remaining Uruk, especially when I was weaponless. Not until I had had my bow and arrows in hand could I go out and search for any survivors.

Despite all the death that lay before me, I became determined to find my family. There was no use in finding them if I continued to despair, and no use in despairing until I found their bodies. I hoped it wouldn't be so. Being alone frightened me like ice in my core.

Approaching the right side of the Wall, my foot found the first hold at the base of Narcost, one of the Towers of the Teeth, then my hands against its pillared crevices. My fingers dug in the iron and stone surface, slicked wet from the rain, finding a foothold in each lump denting the fortress. My limbs burned as I began to climb. Halfway up my back began to press against the crevice side with my boot soles against the other, my head and body still aching from the crash landing, but with a pained grunt I kept going.

This is one of the greatest strongholds in the world, but if one had the chance to look more closely, they would find that the Black Gate to be not as smooth and slippery as it was once made to be. When iron rusts from water and age, it also sticks to the sides like unremovable stain, therefore granting unseen spots that can allow a better advantage in climbing.

I was so high that when I looked down, a stab of nervousness made me gulp. It was not that I was afraid of heights. I have done this many times before, to the point when it wasn't so hard to climb anymore, but I was not feeling so confident with a beaten body and slippery stone-iron. At this high up, one slip and the orcs need not kill me to finish the deed. Mother always warned me that one day I would fall and break my neck instead of my leg.

During my climb, I spotted a few narrow holes that were narrow and square-like, tilted a few degrees upward but still steep enough to camouflage with the iron grates. There were six of them in all, two stuctured on both sides of Carchost and Narchost. The channels of the Morrannon had always been there, originally used for discreetly dumping liquids and wastes (nobody wants to know what) when the Black Gate had been first guarded by orcs in the Second Age, but only the ones that guarded the Gate knew about them.

Now the Rangers of Gondor used these shafts to quickly deliver supplies to the venturing Rangers who explored the borders of Mordor, but mostly in the nearby area of Udun and not much farther than Cirth Ungol, which was across the mountains from Minas Morgul. They used this shaft, not only to save the effort of having to carry all heavy objects down the heavily forted Morannon, but for the safety of those who need not step foot in the land of Mordor.

Nobody worried about this shafts becoming an entry for unwanted intruders, being too small, narrow, steep, and slippery...unless one came from the inside. Apparently, before he forcibly pushed me down one of these shafts, Dirhael told me that he also used them as an escape route in his younger days, though I could never picture Dirhael being small and skinny in any way. To me, he was always bigger and stronger; I had to still be a toddler when he hit his growth spurt.

Then when I was eight, ever since first discovering how the shafts work, I also used them. All it required a rope and a hook to avoid any collateral damage, before the rest of the way involved climbing down the wall. That part of the Wall had been tricky to climb down at first, but I was a quick learner. I was the daughter and granddaughter of a Ranger; climbing was a part of my life.

It wasn't long until I reached the bars of my window, which side-longed with another row of windows. Its stained glass panes behind the bars, the glass shattered, I peered through the inside and saw my bedroom turned over. Feathers, blankets, and my drawers were tossed apart.

"Orcs," I whispered in disgust. As far I know, everything to orcs meant nothing to them but trash. So far, wasting the Black Gate had proven to that theory to be correct. But I didn't care about my bedroom; I cared about my family. I cared about finding a way back inside without being detected.

Clinging with both hands to the narrow ledge that structured like teeth around the midsection of the tower, my dress-shirt sweeping in the breeze, I pulled myself up until my feet stepped forward on the window ledge, hanging onto the bars for support...

CLANG!

I gasped loudly and loosened one hand when one bar unexpectedly came loose, but didn't break off as it pulled off the ledge from my weight. My heart pounding, both hands gripping tightly onto another bar with white knuckles, I realized that some of the bars were slightly bent out of shape, as though they had been pounded on when the window was shattered.

Why an orc would try to destroy a set of bars escapes me, but it provided me an easier way in. Shifting, I reached over and pulled at the loose bar, putting some of my weight into its fibers until its base started to squeal a little. When that wasn't enough, I pulled harder. I realized I was small and light, but I couldn't use all of my weight on the iron without the risk of falling.

The bar started to bend a little, and with a satisfied grunt, I pulled harder until there was a wide enough gap for me to squeeze through. Swinging my legs, I stepped through my newfound narrow entrance, my bruised body brushing painfully against the hard iron, and finally jumped from the window sill into my room.

Now that I was back in my room, the furniture trashed and turned over in a heap, I went over to my tipped over wardrobe, where my scattered clothes lay all over the floor, no doubt pillaged by those orcs right after I ran out with Dirhael. In the pile, I brushed my ruined dresses and tunics aside, until my fingers clutched around the familiar fabric of my cloak and pulled it out from beneath the wooden dresser. It was a Ranger's cloak, mottled green, brown, and gray. Though I wasn't a Ranger, or even an apprentice like Dirhael, it was still good for hiding whenever I stepped out of the Black Gate...undetected. One of the Rangers, Baranor (whom I might've had a small crush on), gave it to me a few years ago.

Baranor was most likely dead, I thought sadly, while throwing on the cloak, feeling its comforting fabric drape over my shoulders and the cowl pillowing my braid. If he was, then the selfish part of me hoped I wouldn't find his body. But then again...

_Don't think about it, _I scolded myself. _Focus! Don't grieve for something that is only your imagination._ It was the only thought that comforted me as I ran back and forth around the room, turning over things until finding my sack under my tattered bed.

_Alright, don't panic now! I'm going to need food and provisions. I'm probably going to need more than my bow and arrows. I have to travel lightly. _

As I bucked my belt around my tunic and shouldered my empty sack, I took one last look around my bedroom, knowing it may well be the last time I ever see it again. Sadness filled my heart when I thought about the times when Dirhael and I shared this room, playing and sleeping in separate beds, looking out the window to observe the Haunted Pass leading the lands of Mordor.

Dirhael would talk about how he could hardly wait to explore the outposts between Mordor and Gondor as a soldier, while I would talk about wanting to explore far more than just these two realms and go far North or West to see the said-beauty of those lands. To see hobbit, elves, dwarves, and Men of the West...

It was an argument that had continued for years. Dirhael wanted to stay in the Black Gate, while I wanted to leave it. But we always claimed that we would miss each other, no matter what.

My eyes blinking unshed tears as I observed the room, biting my lip painfully, before whispering in a cracked voice, "_Bye." _Then I swiftly turned around and starting running through the hallways.

First, I would have to reach the kitchen down Narchost's steps, nearby the main hall where I saw my parents being attacked-the memory still shocked me with terror and hatred every time I thought about it-but I forced it at the back of my mind and gritted my teeth in determination I kept running through the halls. Thankfully, there was not an orc in sight, but I kept my eyes and ears alert nonetheless.

Dirhael and I knew these passages, including the entire Morannon, by heart. Born and raised here, we would be blind and still know every passage, doorway, and stairway that wound through the entire Morannan exterior. But it did not prevent us the fear of a Uruk popping out the corner and Dirhael managing the slay it in the spot.

One wrong misstep, and I could easily be cornered by an orc as Dirhael and I had been just hours ago. The Morannon was just as enclosed on the inside as it was on the outside, making it into one big animal cage, which is why I had to tread with caution.

I gripped my letter-opener in my hand as I scurried a long way down the winding steps until I reached the large hallway. I heard the gurgling growls of orcs and froze. The main hall of Narchost was surrounded by them, pacing like animals and even feasting on a few bodies. My stomach churned with horror and disgust. My eyes darting, I pressed my body against the wall where the shadows were darkest and slid along its surface quietly, keeping my breath steady.

If I just went further down, I would easily reach the kitchen and just prayed that I wouldn't find any orcs roaming there. All I had to do was look for bread, cheese, an apple, and some water. Then go.

_It will be fine, _I told myself. _Think like Father. Be stealthy like him. Master your fear. You can do this. Just be careful._

When I eventually reached the kitchen, which was in the lower passages of the fortress, I had to kneel by nearby barrels and turned over tables as more orcs passed by. Some lingered near the row of pots and pans, tossing asides scraps and ladles.

I knelt there, preparing my knife for to attack if I had to as I listened to the orcs growl insults at each other for a while, waiting in the shadows.

"Hands off the shiny medal! That's mine!"

"I found it first! Ye touch it, and I'll stick my blade in your gut!"

"Give it 'ere, scum!"

As they continued shoving each other, encircling the counter with jagged blades pointed at each other. One of them held something out of reach, while growling like an animal it was at the other. I waited in the dark corner behind the stove, barely hidden in view, but remained still while trying to anticipate the Uruks' moves. I could only hope they wouldn't see me, or else I would be forced to attack.

When the orcs attacked each other, I watched behind the corner of the stove with wide eyes at the barbaric scene, tempted to cover my ears at the loud shrieking that rang in my ears. I have been told that an orc's cries sound like that of a pack of wolves...but that was just an understatement. I have never really heard a pack of wolves, since no packs roam anywhere near the Black Gate anyway.

I nearly jumped when the one Uruk attacked the other that held the mysterious object. The impact clearly startled the possessor, and when the two went flying, but the Uruk's hand snapped open and the object was flung carelessly high into the air, flashing like a bright star in the darkness...and then it surprisingly landed with a light clatter at my feet.

When I saw it, even in the darkness, it seemed to glow. I quickly snatched it up, feeling its designed metal and its sharp edges against my palm, the string brushing around my fingers. I recognized it instantly and my heart went into my throat.

_The Sunstar pendant._ My mother's necklace.

* * *

(Talion)

Still fueling with an unspeakable rage that ran like ice and fire in his veins, Talion felt a surge of power overflow him. Somehow, as the world became bright from the shadows, he saw a whole new world. He felt like two people, filled with a cold, electrifying power that charged his limbs and somehow made him stronger. Looking out from the pavilion, with a growl of malice, he spotted a small group of Uruks marching in the area behind a set of ruined walls.

Just the very sight of them made Talion seethe with hatred. He thought of how a Uruk had held his wife in its grasp, touching her and trapping while the Black Hand...

_They killed my people. They killed my family. Ioreth….Dirhael…._

Talion clenched his fists. He wanted their blood. He wanted to charge them now, hack them to pieces, and rip out their guts. But high up in the tower, by the time he climbed back down...

As if reading his thoughts, he could hear the elf wraith speak, _"Jump!"_

_What? _Talion thought, frowning at the sixty foot drop from the tower. If he jumped….he was not sure if it would kill him, but it would certainly shatter his body.

_"Trust me," _was the response. _"Just relax….and let me guide you."_

Jaw clenching, Talion unsheathed Dirhael's broken sword, Acharn, and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. _I do not fear death. _

Then with cold power surging through him like a heavy shot of adrenaline, Talion felt himself leap from the edge of the pavilion. Flipping through the air with surprising grace that did not feel like his own, the wind rushed through his cloak as he dropped with high speed, his heavy heart leaping high from the plummet...but feeling the wraith's confidence, Talion felt it boost his own...and landed with a heavy thud on the ground before the Uruks, which seemed to vibrate from his landing.

Startled the Uruks jumped back as Talion crouched before them. When he lifted his head, his narrowed eyes glowed like blue fire, frosty as the deadly winter. He could feel the breathing essence of the elf wraith taking control of his body...and he let it. As long as the fear in these monsters eyes remained at the very sight, as long as Talion was able to slaughter these filth and clear the fields for his wife and son's burial, and to find Elanor, the elf wraith can do with his body whatever he pleased.

_They're mine, _the little voice in his head hissed as he glared at the Uruks.

The lead Uruk seemed to recover first from the fright. "Ah, lookie here, boys! It's that lead Ranger from the gate! The one with the pup!"

They slowly walked toward him, unsheathing their lethal weapons.

"So, we missed you at Narchost, eh?" the Uruk growled. Then he smiled wickedly. "An easy mistake to fix!"

**_TBC_**

* * *

**Uh-oh, beware the wrath of Talion! **

**So, nothing much happened in this chapter except a starting motion between three characters, but don't worry, the next chapter will have some action. Sorry. **

**After having watched "Snow White and the Huntsman," I feel a little more inspired for my OC character and her personality. She doesn't want to kill anyone, not even a hated orc, but of course she will be forced to. I just wanted to reveal some of her skills in climbing and sneaking.**

**She will still have to get out of the Black Gate...again. But this time she'll be armed.**

**Ioreth's (now Elanor's) Sunstar pendant was inspired by Arwen's Evenstar pendant, only its the shape of a skinny starfish made of pure gold with a diamond in the center. It's basically a golden Elanor flower pendant. It's also a hair clip:) You'll learn more about it soon.**

**Please review:)**


	6. Why Am I Here?

Images of Ioreth trapped in the filthy hands of this very Uruk burned into his mind. Seeing her carried off by this Uruk while he was beaten to the ground, seeing her struggle on the fortress wall as she watched her husband get beaten close to death and her son die by the Black Hand's sword while trapped in the towering Numorean's clutches...as he watched her throat get cut while he too was helpless...

He _knew_ it was the same Uruk, the one in the middle who taunted him. It was a beefy sized creature with white, mangled hair tied back and green, boiling skin covered in acidic scars, the eyes yellow and wild with insanity. Bile rose in his throat as the very sight of the Uruk who touched his wife.

"You shall suffer for what you've done!" roared Talion, brandishing his long sword and charged at them.

As he did, the cold energy of the wraith overtook him and his body moved with the elf's graceful maneuvers. His sword clashed with the orcs' weapons, and as they swung at them with beastly roars, he only twirled beneath their blades, kicking them back, before managing to cut down one of them. Each time he took down a Uruk, he felt this sick, maddening delight, as well as his own twisting agony, as his sword buried deep into their flesh. Tears ran down his face as he growled and sliced through them more easily than he ever remembered.

_Ioreth...Dirhael...Elanor...Ioreth...Dirhael...Elanor..._

One of the Uruk's was yelling, "He's too fast! We should retreat!"

"The Black Hand wanted them all dead!" hollered the lead Uruk who had been Ioreth's captor. As he charged at Talion, the Ranger captain just stepped swiftly out of the way, causing the Uruk to stumble forward. Talion then grabbed the Uruk's back neck with brutal strength, pulled out Dirhael's broken sword, and stabbed the orc straight the back.

Then again. Again. Again. He kept stabbing the Uruk's back with blind rage, before finally letting the body drop at his feet. Talion spat at the body with vile and turned around...only for the remaining Uruk to crash him into a nearby wall. Grappling with the Uruk, which snapped at his face with its fangs, Talion elbowed it hard in the face and shot his hand out to shove him away...but the moment his palm connected with its face, a bright light flashed from his hand. Cold shock burst through his arm like a flash of icy lightning and shooting right up to his brain...Talion gasped and shoved the Uruk away. Leaning against the wall, Talion stared at the glowing light in his hand in awe, feeling it power surge through his body with vibrating energy. He had felt a connection...to the Uruk's mind...

The elf wraith then appeared at his side, nodding in encouragement. "Go back to him."

Clenching his jaw and swallowing his fear, Talion nodded and walked back toward the orc, who was crouched to ground, stunned from the reaction. Talion once again grabbed the Uruk's face, and then relaxed his body to let the elf wraith take control.

"Edwenno o gwath (Go forth from the shadow)!" shouted the elf wraith, the white light filling through the Uruk's eyes and gaping mouth, seizing its muscles and causing its groans of pain. It was at their mercy. "What do you know of the Black Hand of Sauron?" growled the wraith, pale eyes meeting the Uruk's.

The Uruk looked like it was internally struggling. "He...is a fiend! Made of thin air..."

"What more?" demanded the elf wraith, thrusting more power in its mind.

The Uruk whimpered. "A slave I had...swears he fought him...I sold him...for a keg of grog...to Gimub the Slaver."

The elf wraith and Talion then released the Uruk, the connection snapping like a piece of string. Once the light doused from the orc's eyes, the creature whimpered in fear, looking around with confusion, before retreating away from the area. Talion thought about chasing it down...but he was more interested in what had just happened. What he had just learned.

"That is where you have to go," the wraith told him grimly.

Talion's teeth gritted. "If one can trust an orc," he growled.

"Trust has nothing to do with it," snapped the wraith. "His thoughts cannot lie."

Talion sighed, feeling his rage shimmer down slightly as he sheathed Dirhael's sword. He gazed out into the mountains of Mordor, the ruins of its domain feeling so alien. "The world has changed," he said softly. "Nothing makes sense.

"Nothing has changed," said the wraith, no sign of sadness in his voice; the knowledge was merely fact to him, this mysterious elf ghost. "This is how it will be. The future and the past are linked in darkness."

Talion shivered. "I don't understand why I am here," he said, the fear crawling in his veins.

The elf wraith sighed. "And I can't remember," he admitted. "Let's go find the slaver. His mind may provide answers."

Talion shook his head sadly. "No, not yet. There are still things I have left to do here..." He looked up toward the wall where he left his wife and son. "I have to bury them."

Sensing the Ranger's thoughts, the elf wraith said a little harshly, "You cannot bury every body fallen on this field, Talion! It will take you a week at best!"

Talion glared at the wraith with annoyance, trying his best not to attack this spirit who was merely a reflection of what was within him. "No," he said tightly, "you are right...but I will not leave my family as prey for the orcs." His voice trembled at this. "If there is anything I am grateful for being here, it is to save them from that fate."

Suddenly, the wraith turned in the direction of the Black Gate, startled by something, causing Talion to follow his gaze. A chill went up his spine when he asked, "What is it?"

The elf wraith was frowning, peering at the Black Gate. "There is life in Morannon," he said, clearly surprised, "and it is not an Uruk. I….I feel….a connection…."

Realization punched him in the gut and he felt his face pale in fear. "Elanor," Talion whispered, and charged toward the desolate region of the Morannon.

_Is it my daughter? _he thought, almost desperately to the wraith. Half of him hoped it was her, but the other half hoped it wasn't. Because if it was, that would mean she was trapped inside the Black Gate, which was now overrun by Uruks. It would mean she was in danger.

_Is it her? Please tell me it's her!_

_I cannot be certain. Somehow, I feel the connection, somewhere in Narchost….almost as strongly as I am connected to you…..perhaps in this way, I can look ahead._

"Narchost," breathed Talion, still running, but unsheathed his sword as he broke speed._ If__ you find her, then you tell me where she is! Tell me where is my Elanor!_

* * *

(Elanor)

I pocketed the pendant as I watched the Uruks fight for a while. I had to be ready stab them if they come anywhere near me. Dirhael said aim for the throat to go for the silent kill, armed as these creatures were. But could I do that? Could I kill two living things without hesitation, let alone silently with merely my letter opener?

_Yes, _I berated myself. _Yes, I can. Remember all the Rangers. Remember my family. You're doing this for them. Besides, killing them quickly is merciful...unlike what they do to _their_ kills!_

_An orc will not hesitate to kill you or cause you pain, whether you be a warrior or an innocent child, _my father's voice echoed from my memories during his lessons. _If you see one, run. If it attacks you, fight with everything you have and do not hesitate to kill it, when you can. An orc does not deserve any remorse. _

My eyes spotted the kitchen knives in the far corner of the counter, beneath the shelves. If I jumped over the island counter, pass the Uruks grappling on the ground, I could grab one of the bigger knives and stab them with it...but I froze, shivering in the spot. _I can't do it, I can't do it, I can't do it..._

But then at last minute, when one of the Uruk's grabbed the other and shoved it against another stove, trapping it there as they snarled like animals at one another, I charged forward without another thought, leaping lightly across the island counter, my cloak flying the shadows, until I landed on the other side and yanked out a knife. Turning around, I was shocked that neither Uruk had noticed me the whole time they grappled noisily.

My stealth must be better than I give myself credit for, I thought proudly, but my smirk faded when the trapped Uruk's eyes spotted me.

"OI!" he yelled, and then I threw the knife into his face, wincing at the squelching noise it made. When the body fell, the other Uruk-much bigger and taller than me, I might add-turned to raised a weapon as me, opened its mouth to screech, but I had grabbed another kitchen knife out of pure impulse and threw that one with surprising speed-the blade plunging deep into its open mouth, straight at the back of its throat. With a tiny gag, the Uruk fell facedown onto the ground at my feet.

I breathlessly stared at the bodies with wide eyes, amazed with my much-improved aim and horrified with the gruesome kills my aim had caused. A mixture of pride and sadness tightened in my chest.

_An orc does not deserve remorse._

_Sorry, Father. I cannot help it, _I thought. _Maybe there's just something wrong with me. _Shaking my head, trying to bite back tears, I started stepping over the bodies and reached the pantry on the other side, which was stored with foods and grains for the garrison in Narchost. It was as large as my room and smelled of spices. Climbing the shelves, I found two loaves of bread, three blocks of cheese, two apples, and a few lemon cakes, which I wrapped in a nearby cloth. The pounds of meat were already gone. Not that I would pack them. It is likely an orc could smell fresh meat a mile away and the last thing I needed was an Uruk to sniff me out while I was still in the Black Gate.

There were four places for weapons training through the whole Morannon. While many of the Rangers prefer training outside, they always stored them on the inside, in a narrow room lined with targets and cabinets that store many or the bows, knives, arrows, and swords. Fortunately, the nearest armory was down the opposite passage that led to the kitchens. The room where I keep my bow and arrows. And it was at ground level. Sort of. But there was a window. Small and narrow...but given how well that I fit into that little chute Dirhael pushed me through, I should be able to squeeze through this one horizontally...if I hold my breath.

"Don't get caught," I muttered to myself as I crept down the passage, holding the sack of food close to my chest under the cloak, hoping desperately that there was not a nearby Uruk around to smell it. Actually, I really hope I won't find a group of Uruks in the _armory._ Then I would have a problem.

After more sneaking through the shadows, listening for more Uruks, there were none but a few voices passing by down the halls or outside where I can hear them yell. Most of them were probably outside on the Morannon crossing...or other places. My mouth dried as I thought about how I would escape. What if there were Uruks surrounding the Hidden Pass outside, mutilating the bodies of Rangers while I'm running around the inside like a trapped mouse?

Thankfully, I found the armory empty, although to my grief, I found the mutilated bodies of more Rangers sprawled across the ground. I swallowed, gazing at the scene with a throbbing throat, but forcing to turn away, I rushed to the place where I kept my bow, which was hung in the large storage, above multiple holsters of arrows. I grabbed my bow, feeling the oaken smoothness of its curve, before grabbing one of the bundles of arrows, and slung both over my shoulder. I even found a belt of sheathed knives thrown carelessly on the floor and then tied it around my waist.

I was thinking about finding a sword, but for the Rangers, a sword was his own and nobody else's. I thought about searching the bodies for one, but quickly decided against it. Robbing a body was bad luck, unless the owner was a close family member. Normally, I'm not one for superstition, but this one seemed to shake me a little when actually facing the current situation.

As I had my weapons ready and my sack of food prepared, I turned around...and found myself facing a bright light figure standing before me, tall, transparent, and very pale. The face was mutilated with gruesome scars, growling down at me with a look of pure menace.

"She is here," the ghost said in a deep, smooth tone.

The sack dropped out of my limp hands as I stared at the phantom. The speech shook me out of my shock...and then follow confusuion...then a sharp drive of terror. The first thing that blew up in my mind was GHOST.

_A DEMON WRAITH!_

A lifetime of horror stories of the Hidden Pass, about the resurrection of dead orcs and criminal appearing in the air to haunt and terrorize the living to insanity and death, exploded from my knowledge and I did the one thing that I knew couldn't hold back as my first reaction: I let out a loud, terrified _scream._

* * *

**Oops, not exactly the right way to introduce himself to a thirteen year-old girl who is barely holding it together already. That would be my reaction if a scary-looking ghost suddenly appeared in front of me in a scary, dark fortress. Natural reaction, ya know:) But not good, since there are Uruks nearby!**


	7. You Can See Me

(Celebrimbor)

He did not expect her to scream.

He did not even expect her to see him.

He watched as she dropped her burlap sack in shock, her face draining completely white. Her mouth gaped open and her eyes were wide with disbelief and terror. That one moment's pause gave him enough time to get a full observation of the girl: small, skinny, fair skin with freckles splashed across her nose, long brown hair looped in a braid with loose strands, red lips, and large eyes shiny and blue-green like the sea. She was looked to be a child between ten and twelve, maybe thirteen, barely entering the early stages of womanhood. And not bad-looking for one her age...for a human, he noted.

Then she let out a loud scream, catching him completely off-guard. He looked behind him, expecting a Uruk to be charging at her, but when he saw nothing there, he then realized with shock that she was screaming at the sight of _him._

"You can see me?" he choked in disbelief, his voice cracking slightly, not quite comprehending this transition or noticing that the girl was regathering her bag in her fearful haste at the sight of him. He had been wandering within the worlds of darkness and the world of the living for so long his memories started to drift...alone, unnoticed by those who lived, and exiled from those who moved on...Talion could only see him because his body was possessed and preserved by the wraith's spirit...it was to be expected, as well as slightly relieving to have contact with someone,_ anyone,_ for who knows how long...but for another living being to see him, without the use of body possession...when it was least expected…..

When she was darting toward the only exit around him, that was when he snapped out of his shock. "I don't believe it...Wait! WAIT!" he shouted. "Not _that_ way!"

He spirited in front of the doorway before she would reach it. At the sight of him, the girl halted with a shriek in fright. The wraith winced. He never had, nor will he expect to be able to see his reflection, for mirrors were meant for only the eyes of the living. But seeing the look in this little girl's eyes, he doubted his face looked very pleasant. He must look a nightmare to this child. Could he possibly have a worse visage than an orc?

Speaking of orcs, there was without doubt Uruks coming this way, having heard this foolish child's screaming throughout the whole fortress. Through his wraithlike vision, and even his elvish hearing, he could sense them coming fast.

Looking in both directions, as if trying to figure out another way to escape, the daughter of Talion yanked out her knife to defend herself. _As if a mortal weapon would work on me, _he thought skeptically. Without pausing to think, the elf wraith hastily reached forward until his arm passed through the girl's head, who shrieked as their souls connected...with his will, her memories and powerful emotions surging through him, her hand shot forward and out came a bright light.

_Through her eyes, he saw the beating of Talion by the Hammer and the capture of his wife by the Tower, before she is passed over by a large Uruk. Talion, bleeding on the floor, was looking toward her and screamed desperately in a raspy voice, "Dirhael, Elanor…..go…..RUN!"_

_He saw her brother, the one she nicknamed "Rae," running through the fortress with her, pulling her by the hand as he cut down charging orcs…..he saw the young man knock her over the head, speak his farewells and love to her in a sorrowful voice, before forcing her senseless body down a tiny chute….he saw through the girl's eyes, heard her scream her brother's name as she slid down the chute, Dirhael's face the last thing she saw before briefly costumed by darkness, until falling out of the channel bellow and crashing heavily into a wagon full of flour, the force enough the tip it over and knock her out….._

_Then he saw her wake up amongst a field full of dead bodies, wept her eyes out in her terror and grief, whimpering, "Mama….Papa…." Then she started climbing back the wall of Narchost, the very place where she was forced to escape, reaching the shattered window of her bedroom….seeing her crouched in the shadows, picking up a star pendant…..throwing kitchen knives at two Uruks, killing them instantly, her breathless expression shocked and sad…._

_Foolish child! _he thought spitefully.

Through his control, the door slammed shut and lock bolted.

When he released her, the child, Elanor, shrieked again, "LET GO!", driving a knife uselessly through his airy body, and retreated in the opposite direction, getting as far away from the wraith as possible. Leaning against the wall, she held up her knife, which trembled visibly. "Keep back! Leave me alone! I swear I didn't rob any bodies! Please don't hurt me! Please don't eat my soul!" she cried and pleaded with him, or maybe with the world. "Please...Oh, sweet Valor, you're not real! Y-You're a..._Who are you?!"_

"I don't know," he answered calmly, wondering why this girl would think he would "eat her soul" and found the notion ridiculous. He then sent his thoughts to Talion outside the Wall, _Find the window to the armory. She is in Narchost's armory._

_I know that window! I cannot possibly fit through that! _Talion's thoughts shouted back in frustration.

_No, but she can. Barely. I had her locked in the armory. The Uruks are coming._

_How did you…..YOU LOCKED MY CHILD IN THE ARMORY WITH URUKS HEADING HER WAY?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!_

_Perhaps I am, but if she had run out that door, the Uruks would have caught her before she would make it to the hall. I cannot do much else until you are here, _he snapped.

_If _anything_ happens to her, elf..._Talion's warning was low and menacing.

_Then it will be her fault, not mine. Just hurry._

He could feel the Ranger's rage like a beacon. The elf wraith wondered if he should mention that the daughter can see him, but instead he left it to that, though he could feel the Ranger hurrying over as if it were his own body following, and focused on Elanor, who was hyperventilating against the wall when the shouts of the Uruks were heard on the other side of the door. He cursed inwardly, not having time for this pitiful display, and spirited more closely before the human girl.

Seeing him up close again, Elanor held up her arms as if to block him away, shrieking in panic, "GET AWAY! GET AWAY FROM ME!" She was wildly waving a knife at him, the blade merely passing through him without effect.

The wraith narrowed his white eyes. He had enough. If fear was the only thing controlling this girl, he would use it to her advantage. She will thank him later. His scarred face loomed inches from hers, who flinched back and shut her eyes, as he growled, "The window, you idiot child! Do not just sit there like a cornered rodent! _Get up!"_

"W-What-" she stammered, opening her teary eyes at him in shock and confusion.

"GET UP, YOU LITTLE FOOL! MOVE!" When the elf wraith swung his arm at her as if to strike, only to pass through her like water over stone, the girl gasped from the contact...

Startled by the second contact with her soul, bright and pure, the wraith lost his conetration and found himself seeing through the eyes of Talion, who was nearing Narchost on the far right.

* * *

(Elanor)

As he was insulting me repeatedly, the wraith's arm passing through me was like my insides were splashed with icy, cold water, shocking me to the core, but enough to make me jump to my feet in terror. His heated words confused me at first, but as soon as I processed them, I remembered that my escape route was the narrow window to my right. Staring at it now, my heart plummeted in distress when seeing how narrow the gap was. How on earth...

The door thumping behind me, the sounds of the Uruks being heard outside, shouting, "Who's in there? Let us in, ya dog!", I jerked into action, my heart pounding as I took off my bow and arrows, piling them with my sack of provisions, before placing them through the opening and pushing them straight out. After a moment's pause, I heard them crash below. After that, I unclasped my cloak and did the same, tears running down my face as my hands shook uncontrollably. Taking off my belt of knives, I tossed them through with my cloak, as well. If I was going to fit through this window, I had to wear as few things as possible.

Terrified that the wraith was back, I looked around to check if he was still gone, feeling slightly relieved and nervous. My mind still couldn't wrap around what I had just witnessed: a wraith! An avenging phantom of a tortured soul. But how...? I shivered.

Not having time to dwell more, I placed my arms through the window gap, which were raised far over my head and pressed together through the tight squeeze, and then launched myself further in with a powerful leap. My hip got stuck in between halfway, my skirts flattening, so I started shifting myself sideway and took a deep breath, my hands gripping the edge of the outside to pull myself forward. My head already on the other side, I felt my braid drop forward and I realized I was still fifteen feet from the hard ground, my stuff scattered in the center. I was terrified of falling forward and landing on my face if I pulled too hard, so as I inched outward, my breathing became more shallow as I struggled to grip the wrinkled ledges of the window. Just a little more...

The door on the other side burst open and I felt a Uruk grab my foot. I screamed as it started to pull me back, but I immediately started kicking back.

"C'mere, ya little-ACK!" My foot connected with its face somewhere, but in the process, I fell forward with a cry. For a moment, I thought about my body breaking when hitting the ground and closed my eyes to wait for the impact...but instead I felt strong arms catch me when I flipped over, causing my savior to crumple to the ground with me.

Thinking it was an Uruk, I then started struggling, kicking and screaming. Oh, Eru, I was dead! I was dead…My eyes remained shut. I didn't want the last thing I see in this world to be my ugly murderer.

"_Elanor!_ Elanor, it's me! It's me! Your papa!_"_

A large hand stroked my face, but its cold touch shocked me. Gasping, my eyes flew open and found myself looking into my father Talion's face, his eyes wide and face pale with naked fear. "Elanor…." he whispered, as if not quite believing it was me. I felt the same.

"Papa?" I whimpered. The last time I saw him, he and Mother were trapped the clutches of two, tall monsters. Did he escape? Did Mother and Dirhael? Relief crashed over me and burst into tears.

Tears streamed down his face. Choking on a sob, he immediately crushed me to him, embracing me tightly, so tightly that I couldn't breathe and I found myself doing the same. We were both shaking so hard from either fear or relief that I wondered which of us would crumple first. I found myself sobbing while Father kept holding, rocking me slightly as he stroked and kissed my hair. "You're alive, you're alive...oh, my girl..." he kept whispering in a tearful voice that shook me to the core. "I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead..."

I hugged him tighter. Father never cried. I had never seen him cry until now. He must have been really scared, and he was never afraid of anything until last night. There was also something different about him, but my mind was too muddled with other thoughts to dwell on it. I felt his strength surround me and words could not describe how relieved I was to see him alive. I felt so small as I broke down and buried myself further into the safety of his lap.

"Father, everyone is dead," I sobbed in his shoulder. "Everyone...they're all gone...Dirhael...h-he knocked me out...and pushed me down a chute...I woke up all alone and I didn't know what to do...I was so scared..."

He kissed the side of my head again and held me tighter. "I know, I know. I'm here now. I'm here, little star."

_"We have to go now, Talion! Save your reunion."_

I gasped and looked around. That voice...Chills returned to me. The deep, haunting voice...the wraith. He was back. "Father! That voice!" I cried in fear.

Talion looked around urgently, tensing. He finally stood up and placed me on my feet, before picking back up his sword and instantly started regathering my bag and weapons. "We have to leave! The Uruks will no doubt come after us now! We can outrun them, but stay close to me, alright?" I nodded as he gave me back my bag, weapons, and cloak, and then pulled me at his side, clutching my arm with one firm hand and brandishing his sword with the other.

"What were you doing in the Wall?" Father started demanding, as we ran from the Gate. "If Dirhael pushed you down a chute, then why on this good earth would you go back in?!"

"I needed food and weapons," I tried to explain, trying to keep up with his longer strides. "You always taught me that I should always be prepared..."

"That was dangerous, Elanor!" he scolded me. "They would have caught you! You could have been killed!"

"But I wasn't!" _More or less. _"Anyway, I got what I wanted and you're here now. Are Mother and Dirhael with you? Where are they?"

He didn't answer me, or look at me. Hearing Uruks shouting behind us, the roots of my hair rose and I started to look behind me...

"Don't look back, Elanor! Keep going!" my father commanded, and I obeyed, trying my very best to resist the temptation.

Eventually, crossing the ruined field, we reached a clutter of abandoned walls and ancient monoliths of Cirith Gorgor. My father pulled me with him as we swerved around the structures, their white-gray stone containing a very stale odor about their surface. They were crumpled and half-built, being over thousands of years old, yet remaining untouched. They were seen by the Rangers as historical marks of Mordor, used well for seeing in higher points or as strategy bases.

We crouched near a wall, Talion pulling me behind him with one arm as he peaked over the side, tense and ready for something to pounce out. His sword gripped tightly in his hand at his side. I took the time to properly look at my father, peering up at him, and frowned slightly. There was definitely something different about him. I noticed that his clothes were torn, missing one sleeve on his right arm, and his blue cloak tattered and bloodstained, but it was how pale his skin seemed, giving his hair a more ebony tone than before. When he touched my face before, I was shocked to feel how cold he was. Almost as cold as ice.

Wait, was he not all bloody when I last came upon him? He had been lying on the ground in Narchost at the monster's feet, beaten bloody with the huge mace, having no strength to get up...and his hand had been stabbed! _That_ I remembered. Was it the right one, or the left?

But what I noticed most of all, sheathed on his back, was a familiar looking bronze silver hilt...my breath caught when recognized Acharn, but the rest of the blade was gone, broken in half. And stained with orc blood. My blood went cold.

Talion nodded to himself and then sheathed his sword next to the broken sword holstered on his back. "Nothing. We're safe...for now." Looking back at me, he turned around and cupped my face, looking me over for injuries. "Are you hurt anywhere? Are you alright?" he asked me softly with concern, his blue eyes meeting mine. Blue? Weren't his eyes supposed to be hazel? Was I really losing my mind? Not speaking, I nodded, biting my lip to keep my composure. He sighed and then hugged me to his chest again. "Good," he murmured huskily, his body shivering with emotion. "I'm not letting you out of my sight again."

After some moments of silence, trying to catch our breath, Talion held me until I finally spoke in a small, shaky voice, "Father, why do you have Dirhael's sword?"

Talion stilled, his arms tightening around me as he took a shuddering breath. He slowly pulled away, still keeping hold of me, his face bowed with his hair strands rained over his face. When he looked up, his eyes were not only icy blue instead of hazel, but filled with pain that it twisted my heart to see my father so broken and defeated. The more I studied him, the more I started to get really scared.

"Where are Mother and Dirhael? Father?" I squeaked, though cold dread filled my entire body and started rip through my chest. I didn't want to know. I didn't want him to say the words. I didn't want to hear the words, that the feeling I had all along was not just mere worry...that I had no reason to give up hope that my whole family was..._Please no! They can't be._

His fingers trailed my face gently, his eyes searching my face. It seemed like he wasn't going to speak, until he finally croaked out, "Elanor..." His lips trembled and strained as he tried to find the words to tell me. "Elanor...your mother...your brother...I couldn't..." I started shaking my head, hot tears escaping my eyes, but he finally managed to whisper gently, "They're gone, Elanor."

"NO!" I screamed in denial, trying to pull away, but Talion wouldn't let me go. I fought, but he was far stronger than me and pulled me close to him, holding me tightly as I screamed into his shoulder, "_No, no, no, no, no, NO!"_ I was crying so hard in his chest, the pain so great, that I barely heard him shushing me, rocking me gently in his arms as though I were little again.

Father remained silent and stoic, cupping my head hard as it tucked under his chin, though I felt his tears drip in the crown of my head. He offered no words of comfort; probably because he couldn't find any of his own. Mother was the one who always had words of comfort….and she was gone! He just kissed my hair, and continued to rock me. I lost track of how long we were like that, but I hardly cared. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. All I could picture as I was bawling like a baby in Father's arms was the cold bodies of my mother and brother lying somewhere.

Nothing would ever be the same again.


	8. All That Remains

**I'm really glad that that there is more follows and favorites adding to this story. The adventure had just about began and there is going to be an array of emotions. Also, flashbacks chopped up for some chapters. It's like telling two stories at once, of the past and present. Mostly from the family's story, from the moment Talion first met Ioreth to the night the Black Gate was overrun. Some of them actually reveal in the game.**

* * *

**23 years ago...**

_The first time Talion ever met Ioreth was when he heard her singing near the markets of Minas Tirith. _

_He had been off duty from tracking the borders of Osgiliath with the other patrol, wandering the city's boundaries when he heard her beautiful voice amongst the crowds of other voices. He concentrated on following that voice until it led him to a young woman in a pretty violet dress and a long, loose braid. Around her neck, she wore a star-shaped pendant made of pure gold with a singular topaz jewel in the center that glittered in the sunlight. _

_She had been walking near the flower booth and was smelling white Niphrendil flowers with a relaxed expression, smiling slightly as she placed them in her basket, still humming to herself. She looked young, perhaps in her late teens (making her a couple decades his junior), and seemed to be wandering the markets by herself that day. Talion just hid around the wall nearby a bakery with his arms crossed and his head down, peering up from beneath his black hair strands. He just watched and listened to her with a peaceful expression, cherishing the sight of her and the sound of her voice, though he had never met her before. _

_Talion was born outside of the city, but grew up in Minas Tirith with his uncle after his parents died when he was a small boy. Talion never really had an easy life growing up, was often viewed as short-tempered, sly, and gritty, but smart, noble-hearted and compassionate. At a young age, after getting into some trouble, he became a Ranger's apprentice and spent the second half of his life wandering the wilds of Gondor, serving the City of Kings in the hopes of proving his worthiness. His uncle had perished only a year ago in their house in Osgilath and Talion had returned from the northeast with his men to rearrange the place, having missed the funeral due to his long-distant absence. _

_There were few days Talion could find some peace around other people, but somehow this young woman granted him that luxury. He did not know her name, or speak to her yet, but he was already drawn to her in a way that took his breath away. He didn't want to leave, or her to leave, but at the same time, the very thought of approaching her made his mouth dry. He could face a horde of beasts, orcs, and raiders during his missions, but he felt afraid of doing this._

_What would he say to her? There were plenty of things in his mind he wished to say to her: that he thought she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. That her voice instantly hypnotized him. That he wished to know her name and everything else about her. About whether or not she was a Dunedain, like him. That if she had any suitors...He winced at that last part and instantly scratched it off. _

_All these thoughts were too forward, too fast. Laughable. He instantly felt like a fool, even though he hadn't done anything yet. He remembered all the times in his life when he made fun of men for trying to woo women with their masculine tactics that Talion thought was ridiculous and a waste of time. And even all the times other women in his life tried to flirt with Talion, though he had never shown any particular interest. But now, he practically laughed at himself, realizing that he was coming close to eating his own words. _

_It wasn't until he watched her try to search her pockets and mutter under her breath that he realized that the girl had no money for the flowers. Pick-pocketed, he instantly guessed with anger. Of course. The city had more of those than he cared to count. As a part of Gondor's military, he would make a note of searching them through._

_Seeing the young woman apologize to the flourist and start to place the flowers back with some disappointment in her eyes, Talion immediately found himself crossing the road until he breezed by her side while fishing out a few silver coins. "For the Niphredil," he told the flourist._

_The girl watched him in surprise. "Oh, no, sir! Please..." she protested, watching as Talion exchanged the coins for the white flowers._

_He nodded to the flourist with a smile, "Thank you," before turning to the woman, her brown eyes wide as she stared up at him speechlessly. "Here you are, my lady," he said gently, holding the flowers out to her. _

_The woman shook her head, still flustered. "Oh, no, I couldn't...This is very generous of you, Ranger, but I am not one for having strangers buy things for me. You didn't have to..."_

_Trying not to seem nervous, hoping he didn't just mess up his chance, Talion just smiled down at her warmly. She had to be at least a foot shorter than him. "I wanted to. Believe me. It is not every day that such rare flowers are delivered to the city."_

_The woman paused, tilting her head at him curiously. "Do you carry an interest in flowers?"_

_Talion shrugged. "I usually see them as healing remedies," he answered honestly, "but there was something right about seeing you with these in your hands. It gives me a new perspective in their beauty, especially when picked by a beautiful woman."_

_The girl blushed when meeting his gaze, a lovely smile growing on her face, before she slowly took the flowers, not looking away. Talion tried not to notice his hand trembling slightly as her soft fingers brushed his own, small and petite compared to his. Talion cleared his throat and added, "They...They seemed to be your favorite. The way you were looking at them, I mean."_

_The woman chuckled, her beautiful brown eyes twinkling, and nodded. "They are. One of two."_

_Talion tilted his head with amusement. "Oh? What is the other, if I may ask?"_

_The woman's hand touched the golden star pendant dangling from her neck. "Elanor," she whispered fondly. "The flower of the morning star...but I have only seen them once in my lifetime, the first time I have seen elves in Gondor. I was only a child, but even then, I remember how beautiful they were."_

Not nearly as beautiful as I see you, dear lady. _Talion nodded, loving how she blushed pink when she hugged the flowers to her chest. "Thank you, Ranger," she said. "I...I do not even know your name, as you do not know mine."_

_"__Well, then, what is your name, my lady?" he asked softly, feeling his heart pump as her warm brown eyes met his hazel. _

_"__Ioreth," she said, almost breathlessly with her smile. "And you, Ranger?"_

_"__I am Talion. I am truly pleased to meet you, Ioreth." _

Ioreth. _Just having an excuse to say her name from his own tongue made his heart soar. _

_He fell in love with her right then, and he knew she would be the only woman he will ever love, until the end of his days._

_Maybe even after that..._

* * *

(Elanor)

When Father led me to Mother and Dirahel, I had thought I spent all my tears when it finally came to my mind that they were dead. I was so wrong. Their bodies were laid together on the wall of a high white tower, safe from the reaches of Uruks. The stone was stained with their blood. Mother and son, white in pallor, so still and cold, but when my eyes found the large wound across Dirhael's chest and the red line across Ioreth's throat, I broke down in tears and anguish again.

As I lay in between them, my father knelt beside us with his face pale with grief, his hand running across my hair as I wept.

First studying Dirhael's face, pale and unmoving, an empty shell of what had once been my kind, strong, and loving big brother, my guardian, and my best friend, my tear-blurred eyes roamed toward the terrible wound torn across his chest, imagining the blade cutting through my brother-my brother who protected me!-like the way Cook would gut a fish clean through with a kitchen knife…..Bile rose to my throat at the very thought and wrenched through my stomach, but I swallowed my sick, hot tears spilling out. My hand brushing his hair aside, fingers running across the bristles of his jaw in silence, I could not help but think of how peaceful he looked. Yet, it felt so wrong. He was not asleep. He was gone. A whimper escaped me as I whispered Dirhael's name pleadingly, even though it was likely that he couldn't hear me. My tears wet his face as I thought once again on our last moments together, which had been half-conscious while he held me in his arms for the last time, before forcing me down the chute.

His face had been the last thing I saw before everything went dark.

_I love you, little sister. So much. Na lu e-govaned vin._

_"I love you, too, big brother," _I whispered so quietly, remembering the sadness and love in his eyes before he forced me down the chute. He had known what he was doing. It had to have been the hardest thing he had ever done…..but much to my grief and guilt, I realized now that he had given his life to me. As he had promised before, both as a Ranger and my brother. I would never again argue with him to come travel from the Black Gate. Never to race across the rocks and walls, sneaking out for adventure, or stealing goodies from the kitchen. Never to spar with him, or comfort each other when we have a nightmare or a bad day. Never would Dirhael have the opportunity to become a fully-pronounced Ranger, or meet a beautiful lady from afar that would one day be his wife.

My heart was ripping in pieces, but I sniffed and tried to compose myself, my mouth trembling. Stroking his face with shaking hands, I leaned over and kissed his cheeks, his eyes, and his forehead, my tears soaking his unmoving face. How I wished my kisses would bring him back!

My hand would then feel my mother's face for any warmth that was no longer there. I had called out to her in whimpers, "Mama," over and over without realizing it. Her face was framed with her her streams of long, brown hair, loose from its usual braid, her strands brushed aside. If it weren't for the red line that bled across her neck, it would have seemed like she was sleeping. She was beautiful. My mother had always been the most beautiful lady in the world. It didn't matter if I saw very few females in my lifetime, living in the rough environment of the Black Gate; Mother would always be the prettiest in my eyes.

I pulled out her sun-star pendant from my pocket, gripping it in my hand above her chest as if it would make her heart beat again. "What happened?" I whispered through my tears. "What happened?" I looked up at my father, shaking with a burning emotion I couldn't recognize.

Talion shook his head helplessly. "Elanor...don't..."

_"What happened, Father?"_ I practically screamed as I sat up abruptively. Angry tears ran down my face, my body shaking with rage and mad grief. My eyes met his, hard and red. "What happened? Was it the Uruks? Was it? I'll tear them apart! I'll make them pay! I'll-"

"Elanor, look at me!" Talion took my face in his hands and pressed his forehead to mine. His touch was so cold, but my breathing shuddered and slowed as his paternally contact calmed me, my anger dimming slightly. When I opened my eyes, Talion's hard blue met mine. Blue...it was like looking into the eyes of a stranger, yet I saw my father behind them. My confusion overwhelmed my anger.

"We will find the ones responsible," he whispered, low and full of promise. "We will find the ones who led this attack on our people. On our family. Your mother, your brother, and your grandfather will not be left unavenged. This I swear to you."

"Grandfather?" I choked. Though not surprised, hearing of his death was a blow nonetheless.

Talion nodded, his eyes filled with remorse, clearly recalling that he had watched Hallas fall long before Ioreth and Dirhael did. He and Grandfather had never really got along for reasons that were hard to miss, regarding Father's past and his marriage to Hallas' only child Ioreth, but the old Dunedain had still been something of a mentor to my father, being a Captain of the Black Gate, before his son-in-law stepped up. Duty was what kept them from grabbing at each other's throats. That, along with me, Dirhael, and Ioreth. I remembered that the worst thing I can ever think of happening was that both Hallas and Talion would go out on a mission with the patrol in Mordor and then some incident would cause them to never return.

There were so many things that I have misjudged until now. My whole family was gone, except Father. And for what? For a dreary, iron-stone wall that acted as nothing but a cage and a barricade?

Something in Talion's voice made me pause in question. He said "the ones responsible," as if they weren't just a bunch of orcs nobody in this world would recognize unless it be their murderers. But it was the pure malice trembling in his soft tone that made me realize. "The monsters that hurt you in the tower...you and Mother..." The memory of those two monsters who had held Mother and Father captive still imprinted in my mind, causing chills to shudder right through me. "It was them, wasn't it?"

Talion's jaw clenched as his face darkened at the mention of them. His body visibly tensed as though he could recall their sight and touch as clearly as he could see and touch me. The look on his face scared me. "They were involved," he said slowly, his voice hoarse. "Them and another."

"Another?" I whispered, horrified. My thoughts instantly went back to the Black Gate from last night, and I remembered the third monster. The one who blocked Dirhael and I's path of escape. The cloaked Numorean with the golden eyes and soft voice, beckoning to us with a mentally sadistic lure that seemed equally as frightening as the physicality of the other two. If not more.

_There is nowhere to run._

_"You will know him as the Black Hand of Sauron."_

Looking up from the new voice that was clearly not my father's, my eyes widened at the glowing white light of the wraith standing over us and gasped, about to scream as I backed away, but my screams were blocked as Talion's hand clasped over my mouth. He pulled me against him as I struggled, my screams muffled under his hand, still staring at the wraith. "Elanor, stop! It's alright! He's with me!" he said to me quickly. I froze at the last part, breathing rapidly under his hand, and Talion repeated in my ear more gently, "He's with me. He will not harm you. He is harmless."

The wraith seemed to scoff at that, but turned to pace the around the my mother and brother's bodies.

I broke away from my father's hand, gasping as I turned to face him in shock. "Harmless?! He tried to possess me!" I hissed in panic and confusion.

The wraith turned toward us, his mutilated face grimacing. "Hardly a possession, but was necessary, for if I hadn't, you would have carelessly run straight into the arms of the Uruk." He loomed over me as he spoke, but I scattered to my feet away from him. Somehow the reality of having a ghost-a wraith-speak to me was mind-numbing. That, and he still scared me.

But now that I wasn't trying to escape him, my eyes observed his reanimated figure and I realized for the first time that he was an elf, his long straight hair and pointy ears apparent, as well as his tall, sleek body and the elvish armor he still wore (though slightly battered and scratched), along with a design circlet crowning his forehead that seemed to represent his nobility. An Elf Lord, most likely. His feline facials contained gruesome tears and scars that decayed his skin (or the ghost of his skin), whereas I could practically see the white of his bone and the brief transparency of his teeth, his dead eyes ring-wrimmed but still glowing a shiny silver from his gaze, sharp and clear. Whether they were sharp enough to gaze through the windows of my soul, I dared not meet his eyes directly.

Still in shock, I pointed at the elf wraith and then at Talion, struggling with my words. "What-how-Father, it's a _wraith!_ H-How-_How _is he with you? I don't understand! Who is he?"

Talion stood up, sighing heavily. "We don't know," he said slowly. "He appeared before me after the deaths of your mother and brother. After...After I failed to save them. All I know is that the Black Hand had summoned him….and he is stuck with me."

* * *

(Talion)

Talion was very aware that he was not telling his daughter the entire truth. Yes, the wraith was stuck with him, summoned and banished from the afterlife…..but so was Talion. The only reason he was here was because the wraith was possessing him. But she didn't know that.

He could feel the questioning glare of the elf wraith enflame within him, but Talion only thought harshly as he approached his frightened daughter, _Say not a word!_

Elanor looked at him with wide, teary eyes. "What do you mean?" she said quietly. "The Black Hand….what has he done? What does he want the wraith for?"

Talion stood before her, his reanimated heart pounding in his ears. Elanor. She looked so much like her mother, her jewel-colored eyes shining with worry behind the loose strands of her brown hair, but with more lively color from the body that was his wife. Still so young, vulnerable...His hands cupped her soft, wet cheeks, thumbs tracing her chin. Her skin was so warm, so alive.

The sacrifice ritual still repeated in his mind, the Black Hands voice haunting his broken mind like poison...the blade running across his son's chest...across Ioreth's throat...

_I love you, Father. Ellie..._

_We will be together, my love. Soon! Forever!_

Their faces looking toward him, full of fear and love as they spoke their final words, flashed before his eyes and Talion closed them, shivering. He pulled his daughter close, keeping his arms wrapped around her and her head tucked safely under his chin as he pressed his lips there, reassuring himself that she was alive. All the blood, Dirhael's choking breaths, Ioreth's screams, his own anguish, still fresh and searing like a blazing knife continuing to twist deep within his heart and soul...deeper than the knife that sliced his own throat, draining his life as he bled within his anguish...

And yet Elanor was still here. His youngest child and only daughter, alive and frightened.

_An orphan._

_No! _Horrified by this truth, Talion tightened his arms around her, stroking her hair. If it hadn't been for this curse and he had truly passed on, his daughter would have been alone to fend for herself. His beautiful, sweet little Elanor, who lost her entire family in one night, as well as all she had grown up knowing...If she had been slaughtered before his eyes with Dirahel and Ioreth, perhaps to have been the first brought forward for the cursed Black Hand to draw his blade, Talion knew without a doubt that he would have lost his mind. He had never been more thankful that Elanor had somehow gotten away, that she would have never have witnessed her family's deaths right before her eyes like he did. _That_ was at least a mercy.

He then made his decision.

When Talion opened his eyes, he felt his resolve harden and his eyes burned. Feeling her heartbeat and warm breathing against him for a long moment, he led her over to the pillars of the tower supporting the fort, sitting her down, before taking her face in his hands. "Elanor…I need you wait up here, where it is safe. Do not leave these fort until I return. Keep yourself hidden."

"Where are you going?" Elanor sounded panicked. Her teary eyes studied him, looking wary and concerned for her father, who had suddenly gone cold and emotionless, like the steel of a blade immune to the hardness of stone. But as much as it unnerved her, she recognized some of this behavior before. He was not just her father now. He was a Ranger Captain of the Black Gate. The last one. And one who had lost his friends and family, with only one of his children left to protect, making him more dangerous than ever.

"To find your grandfather." Talion's voice sounded dead, and Elanor stilled in his arms. His eyes burned like blue fire that steeled like the surface of hard, cold ice when meeting hers. The eyes of a stranger with supernatural being. Cold, sharp, and fierce, yet gentle and determined for only her sake.

"We are all that remains of the Rangers of Gondor, Elanor," he told her. "There will more time to explain where our path lies...but for now, let us bury our family."

Then he got up and walked away toward the ledge of the fort, leaving Elanor leaning against the fort's wall, her knees up to her chest, shaken by the severity of her father's demeanor. Then she crawled over to Ioreth and Dirhael. Talion looked briefly over his shoulder to see her lean over Dirhael once again and lay across his chest, burying her head into his neck, her body shaking as she wept again, clutching her brother's body. His heart broke further at the sight. Not too long ago, he had been in her position when waking up to find his wife and son.

_Why did you do that? _The elf wraith's voice questioned him. _Why not tell her the truth?_

_Because I am all that she has now, _said Talion tiredly, before turning around and leaping off the wall while his daughter wasn't looking. He landed with a shudder on the ground and started toward the Black Gate, where he knew he will likely have to fight through a few Uruks to reach Hallas' body, if they hadn't mutilated it yet. _She does not need to know. She already lost her mother, brother, and grandfather, and she is heartbroken enough. She needs me._

_You are dead, Talion. Or as good as. You no longer belong in her world, nor does she belong in ours. She will find out the truth eventually, and then she will have to go._

"No!" snapped Talion aloud. The wraith appeared in front of him and Talon snarled, "I do not care what this brings for both of us! I will not abandon her! Not now, not ever! Alive or not, I am her father, and while I still walk this earth, I will protect her with everything I have! No matter the cost." He clenched his jaw and unsheathed his sword, passing through the wraith who disappeared back into his being wordlessly as Talion approached the Uruks.

_Whatever _thing_ the Black Hand has turned me into, he has made a grave mistake. I will hunt down the ones who have destroyed my family…..my __entire life. If not just for vengeance or for our release from this curse…..then to protect my child. _

* * *

**A short mourning scene. Not much has happened, except for Talion and Elanor's thoughts, but I hope you liked the flashback. **

**Please review and tell me what you think!**


	9. Camp of Udun

**Hi, fellow readers! Sorry for the long wait. A lot has been happening, had hit some writer's block, and meanwhile, I can't believe how many favorites and following there are now. Thanks for finding this, and I hope you are liking it so far! **

**Today is my birthday, so now seemed like a good time for a good new update! Enjoy!**

* * *

(Elanor)

The whole day had been a blur. The whole time I felt numb, as I trailed beside Father with my hood up as it had started raining. I felt like an empty shell, my legs automatically moving under my father's guidance, my tears spent. Watching the cold rain beat around us helped a little.

The warm feel of Mother's sun-star pendant tapping my chest gently felt strange, but somehow comforting.

We had buried our family near the Black Gate. I never saw Grandfather's body, because when Father came back, he had Hallas wrapped up in his own cloak, blood stained and limp. I did not want to imagine how badly my grandfather's body was mutilated by the Uruks. The burdened look on my father's face was enough to not make me ask.

I can still remember my father's singing, the send off of all those who had served Gondor. I remember seeing tears fall down his face when he sang for Mother and Dirhael. I could not bear to see him in so much pain.

We walked in silence. My eyes peeked up and watched the back of my father's head. Not once did he turn around, nor stop walking, showing no signs of exhaustion or hesitation like I felt, but then again he _was_ a Ranger Captain. His black hair was soaked from the rain, dead and limp like his torn cloak, and even though I could not see his face, I could sense the cold, determined expression still in place. I worried that he would catch his death if he did not attempt to cover himself, like he insisted that I should before, but the familiar, stoic tension in his body kept me from pointing it out. I thought about how freezing cold his skin was whenever he touched me.

And his eyes...icy blue instead of his hazel brown. The strangeness was unsettling.

Could it have anything to do with...?

I hardly saw the elf wraith again. I had not seen him since before Father had set off to bring back my grandfather's body, but it still made me shiver to imagine the invisibility of his presence still lingering nearby. So tangled was I in my numbed grief for my family and for the all the Rangers of the Black Gate that I was too drained to ponder the wraith's haunting.

But now...who was he? What was he doing here? Why now, of all times?

And..._where_ in the name of Mordor are we going?

When night had fallen, we had eventually made camp in beneath the crevice of a protruding rock from the mountains to shelter from the rain.

"We'll rest here for the night," announced Father.

Since it was too wet to create a fire, we just settled with try to stay dry. Shivering, I huddled in my damp cloak, rubbing my chilled hands together before pulling out my sack. "I managed to get some food while in the Morannon," I said quietly. Pulling out a loaf of bread, I ripped to pieces, my hands still shaking. Father noticed this and came closer. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to his body. Grateful for his comfort, I huddled closer, taking in whatever warmth he provided.

"Here." I held up a piece of bread.

Father shook his head. "I'm not hungry," he whispered, his eyes now gentle.

"But you haven't eaten all day."

"Neither have you. Besides, you need it more I do. You have to keep up your strength."

"But so do you! Papa..."

Shaking his head, he leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "Go ahead and eat it, Elanor," he whispered in my hair. "I swear that I'll be fine. Go on."

After some hesitation, I nodded and started nibbling on the piece of bread. Satisfied, Father looked away and started staring at the falling rain in silence.

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

"Your eyes...They're different color. Why are they blue?"

He frowned. He reached behind his back and pulled out Dirhael's broken sword, before holding it up at eye level. His new pair of frosty blue eyes stared back from the steel of the blade, seeming to flash with a certain brightness that seemed unnatural. Finally his eyes lowered along with the blade. "I do not know," he murmured.

"Could it be the elf wraith?"

"It is very likely."

"Do you think he is here now?"

"Aye."

I bit my lip, staring the piece of bread between my fingers. To be honest, however selfish it was, I hoped that the elf wraith wouldn't appear right now. I was still slightly terrified of him, but more than that, he was annoying. Whoever he was, he seemed to have no regard to neither me or my father's feelings toward the situation that we are in, cold and calculating as he was.

"Has he told you who he is?"

Father shook his head. "He claims that he doesn't remember. Not even his own name."

"Why is he here, Father?" I looked at him. "And why do you say that he is with you? What happened?"

"Elanor, I do not know. Please, do not ask me that again." His tone became harder, and I was instantly silenced. Father sighed and placed his hand on my head. "Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we will need both our eyes and ears for where we are going."

"You still haven't told me where we are going," I said, my eyes narrowing at him.

He pursed his lips, but after some hesitation, he murmured, "We are heading Udun. There is someone we have to look for. A slave."

"Udun? But..." My eyes widened. "Father, are you saying that there will be Uruks there?"

"An Uruk camp. They always move around to avoid the eyes of the Rangers, but an Uruk I recently interrogated has given me information on someone knowing of the Black Hand's whereabouts. I cannot let this opportunity slip." He looked at me, worry clouding his eyes. "If I had any other choice, I would not take you with me, but Elanor, if you had already learned anything of last night's attack, you will learn well that these monsters will not hesitate to defile you in the worst way possible. You must stay close to me and stay alert at all times. Never let down your guard, for that is the first rule of a Ranger. Do you understand me?"

Nodding, I reached up and touched his hand. It was still icy, so I took it in both my smaller hands. "Father, why are you so cold? You are as cold as death." Father was gravely silent as I looked up at him with worry. "Are you sure you are well?"

Father's expression softened. "Go to sleep, Elanor," he whispered.

Annoyed by his refusal to answer, I obeyed by hugging my cloak around me and then leaned my head down in his lap. "Good night, Papa," I whispered.

"Good night, love."

Though my father's hand was cold against my face, it still somehow brought enough comfort as his fingers brushed aside the strands of hair from my cheek, lulling me into almost an instant slumber.

That night I dreamed of Mother brushing my hair, singing her tune...before then the dream faded...

...with me staring into the eyes of the Black Hand, his dark smile, his beckoning finger...

...and I was frozen. My nightmares have only just begun.

* * *

(Talion)

Talion watched his daughter quietly fall asleep in his lap, gently brushing the hair out of her face. Like this, she looked so like Ioreth that he had to close his eyes and swallow the lump in his throat.

Her words stirred his thinking. He felt neither hungry nor sleepy, though tiredness did take over his mental state. She said he was icy cold and pointed out that his eyes were frosty blue.

_Already she begins to suspect, _the wraith's voice echoed in his mind. _The dead are never hungry again, and sleep is never needed. A corpse eventually goes cold from lack of life. You may shed tears, but you can no longer bleed, for that alone will give you away. How long will it be before she discovers the truth on her own, Talion?_

_You stay out of this. _Talion growled._ I told you before, what concerns my daughter is none of your business._

_I would if I could, but through your eyes, I see everything. Even your child. It is impossible to ignore._

_Then do me the favor of trying to stay at the back of mind, unless you will do the honors in keeping watch. _Talion frowned. _Will I ever be able to sleep?_

_I have such knowledge of the possibility, but since I am able to keep your body animated, perhaps it is the shell that wears down, not the soul within. Heed your own advice, Talion, and rest. It is likely the slave we need to find will require a long search._

_Aye, you are right, there. _Talion sighed, looked down at Elanor once more. She started stirring in her sleep, her face twisting as she whimpered. Knowing she was having a nightmare, he leaned over and kissed her face, stroking her hair. He started humming a soft tune of hi own in her ear as he continued to brush her head. Finally, she stopped whimpering and her face started to relax into a slightly more peaceful expression. Nodding to himself, Talion studied every detail of her childlike face, finger tracing the freckles of her nose bridge.

She was growing up so fast, so beautiful...but in his eyes, she was still a little girl. His little sun-star. His heart twisted horribly as he refused to think of what he would do if anything happened to her. He couldn't die, so the possibilities were far out of his comprehension, and no thought could be any darker.

_Nothing will happen to her. Nothing. _He made a promise to himself, though in his heart, there was some doubt of whether his vow will stand. He had once been confident that he could protect his family, ready to lay down his own life to ensure their safety...and now they were dead. All except for his Elanor.

She was the only one truly left alive. _He_ was just here because of a curse. A shadow of his living himself. A vessel for a strange, cold spirit with a goal that nearly matched his own.

Talion sensed a stirring in his soul, feeling the wraith watch the scene with discomfort...and something else. Confusion? Uneasiness? Curiosity? Talion grew more irritated with continuous intrusion.

_Is something bothering you? _he demanded.

After a long moment, the wraith seemed to jerk back to reality and started to pull back from Talion's mentality. So far back that he was barely there. _No..._

The wraith didn't bother him for the rest of the night, which was fine with Talion.

The Ranger stayed awake the whole night, his hand still stroking Elanor's hair in her sleep to keep her nightmares to a minimum.

When he closed his eyes, listening to the rain fall, he could see his wife and son looking back at him, perhaps wondering when he will come to them.

When the night had passed, so had the rain. After a quick bite to eat for Elanor, who was gloomy and silent the whole time, they gathered their things and took off to Udun. The whole time Talion made sure Elanor stayed by his side, one hand ready to grab his sword while the other was ready to grab his daughter for protection.

They were dwelling deeper into the interior of Mordor, the realm of the Uruks.

* * *

Our travels in Udun after a whole day and night led us to an Uruk camp. Father kept me close by the whole time, eyes darting everywhere for any sign of an orc.

Suddenly we heard the scream of a man. Father hastily pushed me until we both pressed behind a wooden barrier. He peeked over the edge to watch two Uruks beat down a defenseless man continuously.

Looking away, he winced, as the elf wraith appeared by our side suddenly, sending a shockwave through my bones. I had a feeling that I was not going to get used to his entries anytime soon. The man's screams and pleading continued, but Uruks only laughed and spat. I was tempted to cover my ears.

"Well, this doesn't bode well," muttered Father, frustrated.

"Shouldn't we help him?" I asked, wincing from the man's screams

"Don't you see?" said the elf wraith, just as the man's screams faded. "The prisoner created a distraction."

We both all looked and watched the Uruks drag the slave away, until they were out of sight. My father studied the surroundings. I noticed he was weighing his advantage on stealth. I smiled, knowing what he would do.

"There is more of where that prisoner came from," he murmured, glancing back at me. "I am going to set them free. One of them will be the slave we're looking for, and then we leave."

"What can I do to help?" I said.

Father shook his head. "I need you to stay here. Hidden."

"But-"

"Elanor, you will do as I say," he said more firmly. "If you wish to help, be my lookout. If you see an Uruk coming, you run and hide. I am not asking, I am ordering you. I will be right back." He took my shoulders and looked me in the eye fiercely, but with desperation. "Promise me you will do this. Promise me!"

"I promise," I said, shaken by his bold demands and the tightness in his grip, but I saw the grief in my father's eyes and realized that he was afraid of losing me, like the way he lost my mother with his back turned. As much as I wanted to help, my father's sanity mattered to me even more. "Just...be careful, Father."

Nodding, he kissed me on the forehead in the shadows and then turned to face the rugged camp.

* * *

(Talion)

_"__Why use your human sight to track the Uruks? I see more than any mortal,"_ the elf wraith's voice echoed.

An Uruk in the camp was speaking gruffly, "...nothing at all. I know it ain't that. I'm no idiot. But I'm telling you..."

_"__Slay an orc captain. Cut off the head of the snake and the body will wither."_

_Archers, _thought Talion, eying the Uruks standing on the high platforms over the encampment. _I must take out the eyes of the camp._

Talion then turned for one last look at Elanor, who was crouched low with her cowl up in the tall weeds, her eyes wide with alertness and worry. She looked small and vulnerable, even with her arrows and knives, but unnoticeable to any wandering eyes, so long as she didn't move. He gave her a small look of reassurance, his eyes hardening before setting off around the barrier and climbed the ladder of the high platform. The first orc archer stood there, as if waiting for Talion to strike from behind.

* * *

(Elanor)

Scooting for a peek, though I couldn't see Father, I watched in awe as the Uruk archers were pulled out of view. Then I spotted him walking across the rope bridges with quiet balance. Not once did the Uruks notice him. They were too busy surrounding the small group of slaves near an iron-spiked cage. One large green Uruk with a thorny metal helmet was taunting them with a hovering sword as they crouched in the corner, "I like a slave begging for mercy. If one more runs, we'll be out..."

He whipped them and the slaves cowered from him, bearing bloody marks. The Uruks laughed. My face became hot with anger.

That Uruk had to be no other than Gimbub the Slaver, based on the way he was treating those poor prisoners. I ached to help them, but I promised Father and there were too many Uruks.

_How on earth is he going to take down eight Uruks?!_ I thought suddenly in horror. Looking up, Father stabbed an Uruk deeply into the back with Dirhael's broken sword, covering its mouth before it died. Talion then crouched across the ropes above the Uruk group intently like a hungry cat as Gimbub kept growling.

"Thought you were fast enough to escape, eh? No weakling man can outrun an Uruk! See those slaves!" he shouted at his minions, who howled and nodded. Gimbub smiled and started toward the slaves, who were tied up next to the scared ones. "They tried to get away! Now they will die!"

At that moment, my father Talion leapt from the rope line with his unsheathed sword and landed on an Uruk with a loud crunch, killing the creature by plunging his blade in from above. When he charged at the startled slaver, who had killed one of the slaves to my horror, Gimbub spat, "Maggot!"

Then while clashing blades with my father, he sneered, "A pity I have to kill you. You would make a strong slave."

Talion said nothing in reply. He merely shoved him back and started fighting all the Uruks with such speed and agility that amazed me. In the struggle, I could have sworn I saw the bright form of the wraith flash over my father's form, mirroring his movements each time Father cut down an Uruk.

As he fought, Gimbub kept dodging away. He parried blows with Father, who ducked his swings before swiping his long sword across the monster's belly with such force that the slaver flew backwards and his body crumbled like a bag of broken bones.

To my surprise and relief, the Uruks cried out when seeing their leader fall and retreated like scattered cockroaches. The breath I had been holding released.

Standing up, I crept out of my hiding place and walked over to my father, who was now crouching over the dead body of the poor slave, his ice-blue eyes sad as he stared ahead and found me.

Sighing tiredly, he stood up. "Good girl," he said.

I shook my head sadly, staring at the body with a sheen of tears in my eyes. "I didn't do anything," I croaked. "I should have shot him, before he..."

Father shook his head. "He still would have been killed, and you would have been next," he said gently, before turning to walk over to the tied up slaves, who were leaning forward weakly from the poles. Concerned, Father placed a hand on the slave's shoulder, who looked up with silent relief in his weary eyes.

Feeling pity for the strangers, I went over to the ones still crouching in the corner. They flinched, shaking with bleeding gashes on their arms and backs.

"It's alright," I told them softly with a smile. "We mean you no harm. You're safe now."

"Elanor, help me untie these men," said Father grimly.

Nodding, I went to help, but someone appeared around the bend suddenly at the corner of my eye. I let out a sharp gasp when seeing he was armed. At my sound, my father whipped around with a hand on the hilt of his sword...but froze when the two men met eye to eye. I stood frozen in between them with uncertainty, waiting for Father to make a move.

But instead, his eyes hardened and looked away, his hand dropping. "So you didn't die ten years ago," he said tightly.

My mouth dropped in surprise.

The tall man with a red mane of hair and beard, gray eyes, and a leather-furred outfit that looked suspiciously Gondorian, scoffed and raised an eye at my father with a knowing look. "I take it you did not come here to arrest me for treason,_ Captain."_

* * *

**For those of you who played the game, I think you can guess;)**


	10. Hirgon

**Thank you **Pyro**, **Halie**, and **Guest** for your most recent reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story.**

Halie: **Thank you! Appreciate it!:)**

Pyro: **Uh-huh, I totally agree with you. Secrets never stay hidden for long, and when Elanor finds out the truth, its going to hit hard. There's already a lot she's having trouble processing, like a certain elf wraith that looks like a ghostly Freddie Kruger. Elanor definitely has a fire in her that comes from Ioreth that we have yet to see, but she also has her gentle side and Talion's sharpness. I'll be writing flashbacks to demonstrate that, which I look forward to showing. Glad you're liking it!**

Guest: **Yep, whenever there's the time in life, which is good with college and all, but thanks!**

* * *

_Captain?_

I looked back and forth in between the two men, finally settling on the big, red-haired man with an uncertain frown. "Who are you?" I asked, and then glanced back at my father, who was glaring at the newcomer darkly, "How do you know him?"

"He was a Ranger of the Black Gate," said Talion stiffly. My eyes widened, but I somehow wasn't surprised.

"Elanor." I turned back to the red-haired man, who was giving me a small, surprised smile as he studied me from head to toe. "That is you, isn't it?"

Surprised and a bit uncomfortable that he knew my name, I bit my lip and nodded. "Do I know you?" I asked slowly.

The man chuckled and shook his head. "Well, you probably wouldn't remember me that well. You were only a baby when I last saw you. The years have done you good service. You look like your mother. You're even wearing her necklace, I see."

At the mention of my mother, my throat choked up and my finger unconsciously touched the star pendant at my breast. He knew Mother, too?

"You, Elanor, and I are all that remains of that garrison, Hirgon," said Father, quietly.

Hirgon...That name did sound familiar now. Hadn't he been a companion of Father's once?

Hirgon's smirk faded into a scowl. He circled up both, reaching one of the tied slaves. "Then why did you come here?" he gritted as he struggled to untie the slave. The other slaves who had been huddled in the corner seemed more confident in Hirgon's presence and stood up to help untie the other slave. I recognized nearly the same air of leadership in this man as I often saw in Father as a Ranger Captain.

"Looking for a slave that fought the Black Hand of Sauron," said Father, watching him carefully.

Hirgon laughed humorlessly. "More like ran away from him."

Father's eyes flicked with interest. "You know this man?"

"Of course." Hirgon untied a knot. "You're staring at him."

I looked at Father with a mixture of fear and hope. We found the slave, after all...and of course, it happened to be someone my father apparently knew once. Things were working in our favor now.

Father met my glance and then turned back to Hirgon. "Where are the servants of the Dark Lord?" he asked with need and hidden anger in his tone. "Do you even know?"

Hirgon released the slave, who ran off, and then moved to untie the next one. "Perhaps."

Father's jaw clenched and his eyes flashed dangerously with impatience. "This is no time to keep secrets," he snapped, stepping toward the former Ranger, and I instinctively put a hand on his arm nervously. The last thing we needed right now was another fight, especially with this one, although I was feeling a little impatient myself.

"I have been stuck here for weeks!" spat Hirgon, before finally releasing the slave, who slumped heavily against him. "Steady…I barely made it from the last pack, and more will come. We have not the time for this!"

"But you must know something!" I protested, stepping up to him furiously. "Mother and Dirhael are dead because of those monsters, along with everyone else! Please!"

Hirgon looked down at me with pity, seeming to take a moment to think. "Alright, but not here," he finally said. Then he looked toward my father. "Come to the Outcast Camp. We shall ask my scouts. And I would suggest Elanor come for her safety..."

"She stays with me!" said Father sharply, before I would politely refuse the offer. I was taken back by Father's cold distrust. Hirgon may be a stranger to me, but he hasn't given me a reason to dislike him. If anything, I actually found him quite admirable.

"You are bringing your daughter on the hunt, Talion? Are you sure that's wise?"

"You are in no position to judge my decisions regarding my daughter," said Father, "but we'll be there."

Hirgon sighed and shrugged, before setting off with the slave. "Suit yourself, but don't say I didn't warn you." With that, he and the slave limped off.

"Charming," I muttered, before turning to my father, who exhaled heavily. "Should we have gone with them?"

"His business here is not finished just yet," said Father, glaring in Hirgon's direction. "I saw it in his eyes. We best not entangle ourselves with more Uruks and find the hideout ourselves."

"And how will we do that?"

"The code of the Rangers instructs us to set up a certain mark that will allow fellow trackers to recognize their hidden refuge, should there be no other signal. If not, I have other skills that will lead to him."

I certainly hoped so. And then there was the elf wraith. As one of Elven race, he seemed to have more visual perception than any mortal eye, especially when he was dead. I had some tracking skills myself, learned throughout my childhood by Dirhael, but I hoped that Father would find spare time to strengthen those skills and teach me new tricks.

"Was he a friend of yours?" I asked about Hirgon.

"A long time ago," said Father, turning away. "He is-or was-your godfather."

"What?!" I circled around to face him in shock. "I have a godfather? Why have you never mentioned him before? What happened?"

"Your mother and I thought it best that you need not know of him, and we told Dirhael to never mention his name to you again."

I was suddenly angered by this, and confused. They had no right to do that! "But _why?" _I exclaimed. "How can you do that?! If he was my godfather-"

"He became a deserter of the Black Gate. We were ordered to hunt him down for treason, but he was never found. Only a strap of his clothing was found, stained with blood. We assumed he was dead until proven otherwise." Father sounded sad with the memory. "We didn't want to tell you because there was no need to. It would have made it easier for you to forget and move on."

I shook my head, fuming, still hurt by this new discovery.

Then I asked out of curiosity, "Why did he desert?"

Father's mouth twitched slightly and raised an eyebrow at me. "As much as I loathe to admit it, Hirgon and I shared a few things in common, one of them being the desire to leave the Morannon. He had even planned it, came to me once and laid out the offer, but...at the time, your grandfather had offered me the position of second-in-command. An offer I couldn't refuse, not when I was finally earning some trust, some respect." He shook his head, frowning. "He just acted first, and is now suffering the consequences, if he suffers at all. I really hope it was worth it for him. Since he is alive, his betrayal has saved his life."

"But why didn't _you_ desert?" I asked softly. "We could have left sooner. All four of us!" I wouldn't have been raised in the Black Gate all my life, spending years wondering what was beyond Dagorlad, beyond the Dead Marshes, beyond the mountains of Mordor. I would have grown up knowing my godfather. I would have possibly found other children my age..._girls_...whom I would have made real friends. I would know what a forest, a grassland, a clear lake, or a field of spring flowers look like.

It was selfish thinking this way, but it had been my life's dream. Just to see the world beyond the Black Gate.

Father's gaze softened. "Because I was frightened of the consequences," he admitted. "It would mean committing a second major crime of Gondor while I was still serving time. The Rangers would have tracked us, hunted us down, and if we were caught, my fate would be sealed and I lose my family forever. Lose you and Dirhael. Your mother...Hallas spared me once for the sake of your mother, but he wouldn't do it again." He clenched his jaw and tightened his fist. "I could _not_ afford to risk losing what little trust he had in me, _especially_ when Ioreth and I had you and your brother to take care of." He looked off to the side and sighed heavily. "But now...I wonder if I should have taken Hirgon's offer, all those years ago. If we had left sooner...maybe then..."

_Mother and Dirhael would have lived. _I hugged myself, shivering. My hand automatically clutched the star pendant dangling around my neck, its maternal familiarity comforting me slightly.

Suddenly, Father's attention seemed to be taken away by something else as he whipped around sharply. Alarmed, I went closer to his side, trying to find what he was looking at. "Father?" I said. "What is it?"

As he pulled me close with hushed breath, I squinted toward the mountain cliffs and found a small shape crawling down along the rocky slopes, pausing to peer at us. My skin crawled, feeling its eyes toward us. What _was _that thing?

"It's just another orc," said Father quietly.

"No." I jumped with a gasp at the sudden appearance of the elf wraith, who answered grimly, "Someone who wants to be seen. We should tread with caution."

Gulping, feeling my stomach churn nervously, I started to follow as my father started leading the way. The mountain were heading to looked like a dark, looming titan. I fingered the knife at my belt, and looked ahead, but only to find the small creatures scramble down the slopes, making a high-pitched noise.

Wherever we were going, whatever the creature was, I felt my nerves stir the deepest core of my stomach...but I also felt that this cannot be ignored. I stayed by Father's side the whole time and was thankful that he did not nag me once. He must be starting to trust that I will obey and stay close by, not try anything risky.

For now, anyway.

* * *

"What sort of rodent hides in the shadows, I wonder?" said my father Talion, as we entered the cliffside of the rock slopes after struggling over a path of overturned boulders.

The elf wraith was walking beside us. Him on one side of Father and me on the other, keeping my distance. "Something of great power had left its mark on him. I sense it."

"But what has he to do with the Black Hand?" I asked, frowning. "Why is this...creature important?" I looked in between my father and the elf wraith. They were keeping something from me, and I felt it unfair that I should be left in the dark.

Father also looked at the elf wraith, guessing. "You feel that it might have answers."

The wraith nodded. "For both of us."

* * *

**_*Gollum!_ Gollum!* Heh, couldn't resist! Please review what you think, and I'll get back to you with a smile! Thanks!**


	11. The Necklace

***Smiles* Hi, everyone! Sorry to take so long! Unfortunately, it's going to be the same excuse: an endless rotating cycle of writing stories, homework, break/writer's block, repeat. But meanwhile, I am so delighted and thankful to all the new reviewers, favs, and follows! Thank you!**

Pyro**: Real life is a real pull, but it hasn't stopped me yet. You don't have to worry. Yeah, Elanor is going to get quite an eye-full of Gollum.**

Forcewalker**: Thanks! I'll try my best!**

NightlyRowenTree**: I'm so glad you are enjoying it. Thanks for the reviews!**

Vader10: **We'll see. I'm pretty sure Elanor will meet her pairing in the future, but I'm not worried about that right now. She's only thirteen, but she'll be around eighteen or so when LOTR takes place. I am planning more OCs, but its not exactly romantic. Yet;) The only romance in this story are Talion and Ioreth, and maybe slight Lithariel and Talion.**

Halie**: Thank you!**

Stallord**: Right back at you, because there's no way Gollum's song will be overseen:) **

Guests**: Thanks for reading and making suggestions! Trust me, I plan for Elanor to show her feisty side.**

* * *

_"What sort of rodent hides in the shadows, I wonder?" said my father Talion, as we entered the cliffside of the rock slopes._

_The elf wraith was walking beside us. "Something of great power had left its mark on him. I sense it."_

_"But what has he to do with the Black Hand?" I asked. "Why is this...creature important?" I looked in between my father and the elf wraith. They were keeping something from me, and I felt it unfair that I should be left in the dark._

_Father also looked at the elf wraith, guessing. "You feel that it might have answers."_

_The wraith nodded. "For both of us."_

* * *

(Talion)

"We should find him, then," said Talion. He felt Elanor step closer to him, looking unsure and confused, but mostly annoyed because nobody would give her a real answer.

"It shouldn't be too difficult," said the wraith, lifting a finger ahead. Talion and Elanor followed the elf wraith's gesture before he dissipated. Talion's eyes narrowed, his sharpened vision catching the light of the strange tracks hidden among the weeds, leading into the mountains.

Elanor knelt to the ground to take a closer look, frowning in concentration. Her young, sharp eyes in many ways were not as skilled as her father's, but she had enough practice in her life to know where to recognize a hidden footprint.

"Tracks," she said, looking up at Talion for a confirmation. "They're the creature's, aren't they?"

"Aye." Talion nodded, feeling a moment of pride for his child's skill, however small it was. He felt the cold essence of the elf's conscience stir within as he followed the blue light leading the trail. He sheathed his sword, while Elanor stood up, looking small and wary. "These tracks are not quite human, not quite beast."

_Even more reason to investigate, _the wraith's voice pointed out in his mind, the slight eagerness impossible to miss.

"Are you sure it's not an orc, Father?" asked Elanor, frowning. Her small hand still clutched the knife sheathed in her belt.

Talion shook his head. "I do not know, Elanor, but I highly doubt it means us any good will." He glanced at her, who was ever ready to follow wherever he may lead. "Follow me and try to keep up."

"I know, Father."

Soon they were running down the hills, where the shadows of the mountains began to grow stronger around them. Talion always knew Elanor to be a fast runner for her age, but he nonetheless shortened his much longer strides for her smaller ones. He could imagine that she was thankful for all the times she and Dirhael raced together, whether it had been on the ground, or the high stone ledges of the Black Gate, giving both their mother and father a near heart attack every time.

"What is this place?" Elanor called, trailing alongside him.

_The runt's tracks lead us right into that Caragor cave..._Talion then realized with a start as they were heading closer to the widening cave entrance, deep and dark like a giant snake pit. He started to slow, dread creeping in his veins when he thought of going into the pit of danger with his thirteen year-old daughter in tow. He had been in the caves like this before, on missions with the fellow Rangers, and had at times barely escaped with his life. He would have never even had taken Dirhael with him, let alone Elanor.

_Perhaps you should have left her with the slave, after all._

_Don't mock me, elf! _Talion gritted his teeth.

"Father, look!"

Elanor's shout made him look up to see a pale form. Scrawny and hunched over like the rat it was, it leered back at them before turning around and fleeing in the darkness of the cave.

"There! It's on the run!" exclaimed Elanor, sprinting ahead.

"Wait-Elanor!" shouted Talion, realizing too late that she had been ahead of him and started running after her. Irrational panic seized him when her form disappeared in the shadows, stray bats flying out into daylight with loud squeaks.

_Reckless child!_

"ELANOR!"

* * *

(Elanor)

As my father called after me, bats appeared and flew over my ahead, causing my head to duck down to avoid their flapping wings before I entered the darkness. I do not know what possessed me to go on ahead, but the sight of the strange creature near the cave entrance of us both frightened and fueled my determination.

Looking around, the cave was dark, but the light from the entrance was bright enough for my eyes to make out the outlines of rocky walls, the damp ceiling, and jagged cliff plateaus full of minerals and...and...

_Bones!_

My heart skipped a beat when I heard rapid breathing, rather than my own. I listened to the raspy breaths echo from mysterious non-orc. It made rather wretched noises that made my heart pound faster. Where did it go?

"_What_ do you think you are doing?"

I yelped and stopped right before the stern-looking wraith, who appeared before me like light in the wind. "You think you can just run off and handle matters on your own?" the elf wraith pointed, standing tall in my path.

Heart still pounding from the scare, I glared at him and retorted, "_No!_ It wasn't like that! I was just-"

"Elanor!" A large hand grabbed my arm and forced me to turn toward an angry Father. "Did I not already tell you to stay close?" he growled, shaking me a little too roughly. "Look around you! We are in a _Caragor_ cave, for Eru's sake! Do you _know_ what that is?"

Caragors. I read about them not too long ago and were even told about them by a few Black Gate Rangers from long patrols, but I had never actually seen one. Their description was not very pleasant.

Scared of his anger and the tight grip on my arm, I stammered, "It...T-They're wild beasts of Mordor. Carnivores. I didn't know-"

"Of course you didn't, because you did not think! What if a Caragor, or even an orc had come leaping out of the dark and attacked you without warning?" His fingers dug painfully into my forearm, making me whimper, and his frosty blue eyes flashed angrily. "What _then?_"

"F-Father, I'm sorry. Please..." I did not know if this was the best time to give me a whipping, as he would to Dirhael and I whenever we got into huge trouble, but Father had never looked this scary before. He...He wouldn't break my arm...would he? Ever since Mother and Dirhael's death, I couldn't help but feel that Father could never be the same again….and somehow that worried me.

"Talion," the wraith spoke up softly.

_"What?"_ Father's head snapped up at the interruption, making me wince. He was really hurting my arm. Enough to leave bruises in the morning.

The elf wraith watched us both grimly. "The tracks lead above." He lifted his arm to gesture at the faint set of tracks that led toward the cliff. "We should hurry."

_Thank you so much for your concern, _I thought sarcastically toward the stone-cold phantom, who seemed to ignore me the whole time. _Bastard, _I added to loosen the knot in my chest.

Father blinked, then looked ahead for confirmation, clearly seeing the tracks far better than I could in this dark place. With his attention drawn away, I pulled out of his grasp forcibly and backed away, my hand rubbing where his hold had been. My eyes moistened with hurt, but I did not cry.

I refused to cry, just because Father lost his temper. If that was what it really was.

"Elanor, come." He didn't look at me as he started to approach the cliff.

I wordlessly obeyed, my hurt expression hidden behind my loose hair strands. I wiped my wet nose. My feelings had shifted from fear, to hurt...and then to mortified anger. My face heated and my fists clenched tightly to my sides. It wasn't fair! I wasn't even trying to run off! All I did was run ahead, trying not to lose sight of our target, and Father still scolds me like a child! Eru, even the wraith had the pleasure of humiliating me for the sake of it! I could just tell.

I already felt useless enough as it is! Well….that was going to change. Soon.

When near the cliff, Father turned to look at me, holding out a hand. The hand that hurt my arm. "Elanor..." he said softly. He clearly meant for me to hop onto his back while he climbed us both up the cliff. I bristled. _As if!_

"I can climb on my own!" I snapped, stepping around his hand stiffly and grabbed hold of a rough ledge to start climbing with angered force.

Below me, I heard Father sigh below me, dropping his hand with a slap, before moving to follow me up. Perhaps he didn't argue to go first because he would be ready to catch me if I fell. Honestly, I have been learning to climb my whole life and Father treats me like I'm a three year-old.

I huffed loudly, as my hand grabbed the ledge above to pull over. I may not be that brave or even that smart sometimes...but I was certainly _not_ clumsy.

* * *

(Celebrimbor)

Through Talion's eyes, the elf wraith watched that little human daughter of the Ranger's climb rapidly ahead of them with a pout on her red, freckled face with a mixture of slight amusement and annoyance, while his host only felt some sadness and regret for his earlier actions. When she was angry or stubborn, he could now see some of her father in her. Including the recklessness.

The ghost of his-or rather Talion's-fingers pressing too roughly into her delicate arm felt wrong. He could feel Talion's guilt eat up his insides, making him question his own behavior, allowing fear to blind his mind and judgement, unleashing such a reaction against his daughter too harshly to be considered justifiable...could it be the stress of everything they have been through...or was it something else entirely? Something...unnatural. The Ranger hoped that it was not the latter.

Thoughts and feelings that revolved around fear, anger, or anxiety were easy to sense with having to dig too deeply, because they made no effort in hiding themselves. Therefore, the wraith was able to become one with Talion in his thoughts and feelings without having to take control...because those were similar feelings that the wraith himself had other than numbness. Anger, fear, anxiety...simply not too complicated to unravel.

Although, when it came to other feelings, slightly surfaced with the slight traces of warmth, compassion, love...especially toward young Elanor...

Every time he looked at her, through Talion's eyes or his own from the exterior, her brown hair, her small figure, the sharp contrast in her innocent, jewel-colored eyes...every time he felt her smooth skin, her delicate bones, and soft hair with Talion's touch of comfort...the wraith felt those feelings stir. Like a forgotten memory.

Those warm, soothing, strange, and utterly confusing feelings.

Every time he watched the infuriatingly naive, reckless, and highly emotional little girl through Talion's eyes, he could not help but feel that she reminded him of someone.

But he could not, for the death of him, remember _who_.

Why did she make him feel like this? Why was it, at times like this, that he felt the need to feel...

_What, protective?_ He inwardly scoffed. Nonsense. _These feelings are Talion's, not mine._

As Elanor pulled herself over the cliff, Talion reached and pulled himself up. A sudden buzz of energy surged through him. Him_ and_ Talion. He had felt it at a distance, when they had been following the creature to the mountains.

Whatever they were looking for, it was close. Very close.

* * *

(Elanor)

The slightest glimmer of light caught my eye.

Standing on the flat surface of the higher grounds, I slowly approached the object laying in the dark space with nothing else surrounding it. More importantly, I felt this strange, cold pull toward its location as though I were silently beckoned by some unknown, supernatural force. Not unlike the elf wraith, actually. Squinting for refocus the closer I got, I made out the outlining of a necklace, its framing embedded with wired gold and silver, the pendant containing a very large emerald, so green that it practically glowed in the darkness.

A necklace. In the middle of a Caravor cave?_ Strange._ Frowning, I reached down to pick it up...only to stiffen when hearing a growl echo through the caves, causing me to freeze. Caragors? In that moment, I had half-expected one to leap out and attack.

"Elanor?" I looked back up at my father with wide eyes, still bending halfway over. He frowned when finally spotting the object of interest at my feet and crouched next to me. "What is this?"

Father gently picked up the necklace to observe it more closely, and I reached over to touch it, since _I _was the one who found it first-

-when suddenly came a blinding flash of light before my eyes-

-followed by an _agonizing_ tsunami of fire and ice flooding my entire my body.

_Screams._

Father's...and my own...the world went into distortion, surrounded by flashes of light, dark, and pain-falling-drowning-

_Silver. Shiny silver._

_Blood. Dark, red blood. _

_Dripping...dripping from the silver. Each drop hit the ground with a sickening splash, creating puddles around this red-hazed, foggy universe...the only sounds in the room ragged breathing and the muffled rhythm of a slowing heartbeat...the vision refocused more sharply, revealing the bloodied, silver object to be a hammer. An _elvish_ hammer, the markings on its surface unmistakable. _

_Pain. So much, hellish, excruciating pain. _

_Screams...sobs...wails of the purest agony..._

_Beyond the silver hammer hovering in the vision lay two bodies. Too still and sprawled to be living, surrounded by the smells of gore and death. Blond hair and brown hair, drenched in blood...their eyes half-lidded, staring back with lifeless, glassy eyes..._

_Hell. This was _hell_._

_...When they had been alive, they were beautiful. Smiling back at him with pride and love. She, his beloved, her golden hair and green eyes that bore a diadem over her graceful features..._

_...and she, his precious child, his treasure, her brown hair and innocent yet intelligent blue-green eyes looking back at him with the sweetest smile..._

_...around her neck dangled the shiny, emerald pendant._

Ada! Ada!*

_The wraith screamed._

* * *

(Talion)

Reality came crashing back, as Talion dropped the necklace with a clutter and fell to his knees from the shock of ice-burning pain that disappeared as quickly as it came. He was gasping for breath, trying to calm his racing heart. Beside him, the elf wraith was there, kneeling beside him with pale hands hovering over the emerald pendant. It was as if he wanted to touch it, but obviously couldn't.

Talion certainly had no intention of touching _that _object any time soon. Beside the wraith, his daughter lay sprawled on the ground, seeming to have passed out.

"Elanor!" he gasped, meaning to reach out to her and nearly fell over when he shook her shoulder. "Elanor..."

Opening her eyes, Elanor jerked away and sat up quickly, gasping for breath. There were tears in her wide eyes. "W-What...what..." she started croaking, unable to form words from the horrible visions she had clearly witnessed. She looked horrified, pale to the face and shaken to the core, but otherwise alright. Talion himself could not erase this awful images in his head. The blood...the silver hammer...the two, dead elleths on the floor...that little elf lass, wearing the very same pendant on the ground in the center...

Did they just glimpse into the past? The _Elf Lord's_ past?

"What manner of spell is this?" rasped Talion, staring at the pendant with a shiver, not deciding whether or not to pick it back up. Was it cursed?

"A lost heirloom, Talion," came a soft, broken reply.

Both Talion and Elanor looked up at the wraith kneeling before them. His mutilated face was now distorted with sorrow and pain. Talion met his ghostly eyes, and then immediately understood. "You remember," he said softly.

The wraith nodded. "A few broken images, yes..." he murmured, glancing at the necklace and then back at Talion, never once at Elanor, "though now I wish that I didn't."

Talion found it hard to breathe, recalling the images and the expressions of horror and devastation it contained. It was...just like the fate of his family. The same hellish slaughter, the same loss...Talion reached out a shaky arm toward Elanor, needing her by his side. The young girl complied, crawling over to him with silent sobs and burrowed herself against him. He wrapped his arm around her small, shivering body, pressed his cheek to her hair, reassured that she was still here, though slightly traumatized.

"Your family..." he whispered, tightening his hold on Elanor before glancing at the elf wraith, "was..."

"Perhaps that pain," spoke the wraith, slowly, "is what connects us. And Elanor...her blood is your blood, which makes her connection just as strong. There is no question." The wraith looked at Elanor, who was still being held by her father. "Elanor...come here," he said, sounding surprisingly gentle. "Pick up the necklace."

Talion stiffened, while Elanor looked up in confusion, fear glazing her eyes. "W-What?" That seemed like the very last thing she wanted to do. Talion didn't blame her. He still couldn't think of why they were here in the first place.

"The visions have passed. It should be safe to touch now. Pick it up."

Elanor sniffed, wiping her eyes, and moved away from Talion's side, slowly reaching out for the necklace. While her hand hesitated for a moment, she finally plucked the pendant with delicate fingers. No visions, pain, or flashes followed. Feeling more confidant, she studied with both hands with wonder in her blue eyes, while the wraith seemed to watch her with quiet fascination.

Talion, however, could not help but think to his astonishment that this mysterious undead Elf Lord also had a daughter. And this had once belonged to her, a beautiful emerald framed with silver and gold, now resting in Elanor's hands.

Suddenly, a raspy growl sounded his ears. Looking up over his shoulder, Elanor gasped, "Father!" and he instantly whipped around to find a pair of long, gangly fingers and two glowing eyes peering at them from the edge of the cliff.

* * *

**Gollum will show soon, I promise! Elanor's POV on the necklace next. What do you think of their reactions and the flashback? **

**Love your reviews, as usual!:) Happy New Year!**


	12. The Bright Master

(Elanor)

"Wretched creature!" Father growled, jumping to his feet and charged at the intruder, who only snarled back and disappear from view. "What do you want?!" he shouted after it, who was darting on all fours toward the cave's exit.

It was the creature we had been chasing, I was sure of it. The shock in my body was still fresh from its ghastly appearance, my hand still clutching the jeweled necklace in a deathlike grip, while my other had impulsively hovered toward my knife.

A heavy growl rumbled behind me. Slowly turning around, my eyes widened in horror and breathing quickened in tiny squeaks at the looming shape of a large, canine beast. Hackles raised and long fangs bared, its muscular body half-starved to the point where bones were shown, I knew right away that this was a caravor. In the flesh, right before my very eyes, four or five feet away from biting distance. And with my vulnerable position on the ground, between my father and said creature, I was in deep peril.

"Elanor," Father hushed voice from behind filled with caution and a tiny hint of fear was directly toward me, though his eyes were only fixed on the caravor slowly stalking toward us, "do...not...move..."

Eyes yellow with wild hunger and foam dripping from the muzzle, the caravor snarled. I found myself frozen, trembling with the coldest fear, thinking only of the maw that could easily tear my head off. A whimper escaped me, a tear running down my cheek to my gaping mouth. _Help me, _the tiny voice in my head pleaded.

"Look at me, mongrel!" growled Father, directing the beast's gaze over my head at him._ "Here! Come at me!"_

"Papa..." I breathed, terror and panic filling me. "Papa, n-no..."

The caravor parted its dripping mouth with loud snarl that roared through the cave, its eyes now lit like blazing, predatory flames...and without a running start, it pounced.

Before I would scream, in almost the blink of an eye-

-the caravor launching across the air with jaws opened wide-

-a bright, white bolt flashed from over my head and hit the beast in the face. The impact the creature backward with surprisingly heavy force, causing a whiplash of wind blowing the hair strands from my face. When the body crashed the ground, the sound making me jump, I felt Father's cold hand grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet, pulling me to his side. I buried my face in his chest, gasping and sobbing.

I did not know what feeling was consuming me: relief for managing to avoid death, or frustration for freezing when I should have defended myself (shoot an arrow, or something). My hand was still gripping the emerald necklace, the edges cutting into my palm.

Father turned toward the exit. "Quick! It is escaping!" he exclaimed aloud. Rushing us toward the edge of the cliff, to my surprise, he stopped, swung me behind him, and leaned over. "Get on!" he ordered, even though he was already pulling my arms over his shoulders, and soon hoisting my legs around his waist.

"Father, WHHHAAAAAA...!" Before I knew it, Father then leapt off the cliff with me clinging onto his neck and torso as a horrified scream left my mouth, the rush of gravity whipping my braid into the air as we dropped. My face pressed to his back neck, eyes shut, expecting a painful crash...only to feel a slight thud of my father's boots landing on solid ground, jerking my eyes back open with surprise.

Hearing a chorus of caravor growls echoing the cave behind us, Father gripped me more tightly as he continued sprinting toward the light of the exit without a pause of breath.

Peeking over my shoulder in disbelief, a crowd of wolfish yellow eyes watched us leave from on top of the plateau in the darkness, making no more attempts to follow.

Did we actually survive that without the slightest injury? That cliff was at least twenty feet high! By all rights, Father should have broken a leg from the landing.

And...and that light? The light the hit the caravor...recalling the rush of events more slowly in my mind, I could have sworn my eyes made out the shape of an arrow. A bright, white arrow.

"Papa, what happened?" I cried as he continued running with me on his back. "We didn't crash. What was that light? What did you do?"

_"You will have to save the questions for a more convenient time, child," _the elf wraith's voice rang out, seeming to echo in my head. The cold seemed to seep from my father's body, connecting with my limbs and chilling them to the bone. _"The creature has not gone far."_

"I know where to find him," muttered Father, finally slowing at we faced an isles mountainous rocks. "He hiding there, I know it."

_"But if we're to lure him out, we have to play this carefully."_

"Make him believe he has the advantage," agreed Father quietly, slowly putting me down, still looking ahead with narrowed eyes. "Elanor, keep your eyes and ears open. Look straight ahead and do not say a word. Leave the rest to me."

"Yes, Papa," I whispered, staring at the path where the creature went. Feeling the emerald necklace in my hands, I let it dangle from my fingers before looping the lace around my neck, moving my braid out of the way. Tucking the emerald under my clothing with my pendant, I then started walking side by side with Father down the path, keeping my expression calm and relaxed, eyes straight forward and ears wide open, for any sign of movement. My hand remained on the hilt of my knife, ready for defense if necessary.

I did not like this one bit. I wasn't even certain if I was going to like what Father was planning. His intentions made me nervous. I had seen his military side plenty of times in my lifetime while living at the Black Gate. I had seen how focused and intense he can be in battle or hunting strategies without forgetting his containment of ferocity or even his slight sense of humor….but that had been the father I knew before our life had fallen to shambles. Before Mother and Dirhael had died.

Now it felt like I was stalking side by side with a different man. An unpredictable weapon. And it honestly scared me nearly as much as the mysterious threat we were seeking out.

* * *

(Third Person)

Glowing eyes appeared in the darkness of the burrow beneath the cliff.

"He will remember, Precious…" hissed the creature known as Gollum. "We will make him. Yes, yes, yes! We must have it back! We must have it! Quiet! Quiet, Precious!" His eyes narrowed with glee as he spotted the man and the child walk right past the exit. When they were gone from view, the creature began to crawl out, drawing his haunches to prepare for an attack from behind.

Perhaps if he went for the girl first. He grinned wickedly as his head surfaced from the burrow. He could wring her scrawny little neck…..

A larger hand sudden clamped around his his neck, squeezing the breath out him, and was sent upwards and harshly against the rocky wall. The darkened face of the ranger loomed in sight, baring his teeth. "You think you can sneak up on us so easily, eh?" he growled.

"Father!" exclaimed the dark-haired girl in the background, watching the scene with wide eyes.

"Stay back, Elanor!" gritted the ranger, tightening his hold on the creature and shoved him against the cliff again. "Be still, wretch! So who did you plan to attack first? My daughter? Hm?"

"No! No, don't hurts us!" screeched Gollum, grappling at the tight grip around his throat while kicking out his feet in the struggle. Then his air-supply was cut off with a croak when the hand tightened.

"Father, stop, you'll kill it!" yelled Elanor, who looked torn between fear, suspicion, and pity toward the thing.

Talion hissed through his teeth and loosened his grip slightly, enough for Gollum to start coughing wetly. The elf wraith appeared, bright and glowing with determination. "Ask about the jewel," he told Talion, staring at the creature with determination. "What does he know of it?"

The creature's eyes widen with awe. The light of the wraith reflected from his frog-like orbs. He outstretched his gangly hand toward the inanimate being. "Bright Master!" he gasped. "Yes, we knows! Bright Master came to us...in our dreams."

(Elanor)

I blinked, noticing that the elf wraith looked completely lost for words when staring at that thing. The only time I had ever seen him like that was when….I gasped, realization hitting me like heavy iron from what I was witnessing. The creature can see the him!

The elf wraith stared at the creature, completely astounded. "You...see me…?" he whispered slowly.

Suddenly, the creature's features twisted up as he leaned over and sank his teeth in Father's hand.

"Hey!" I yelled.

"AH!" Father dropped him, grasping his hand. "Filthy creature!" he snarled, while the creature huddled back in the burrow. I watched as the elf wraith was now kneeling before the hole, completely focused on receiving an answer from the creature, who crawled back out with round, entranced eyes. The white-blue light of the phantom shined over the gangly creature, bringing out the hollow, skeletal look from the bone to the flesh.

"The Precious, it showed us!" the creature said in a breathless tone. "It showed us treasures of the Bright Master."

"No more riddles," said the elf wraith in low, threatening tone. "Do not play me a fool, I warn you."

"Yes!" exclaimed the creature. He bowed to the elf with merely a nod of his bald head. "We swears! We swears to serve the Bright Master! We takes him to our treasures. Gollum! Gollum!" He coughed with wet, croaking noises that made me flinch.

_Gollum, _I thought, as the creature gagged. _That's what, or who, he will be called._

'Gollum' then let out another rasp, before slinking back into the shadows of the crevice and turned tail.

"Wait!" I exclaimed, but he was already gone. The elf wraith stood back up, still looking toward the crevice, grim and thoughtful.

"He will find us," the wraith murmured, before turning to face my father.

Father was panting with barely contained rage. Glaring the elf, he pointed at the burrow where Gollum was.

"I do not trust him," he said, before turning around to stalk away. I quickly caught up to his side.

The elf wraith met his stride, looking more urgent as my father's reluctance. "But we need him," he insisted quickly, before adding more forcefully, "Do you not wish to know who I am?"

The elf wraith gave me a glance, before he disappeared into light. Biting my lip, I reached up and felt the emerald necklace that I had put around my neck earlier, bumping alongside my star pendant.

It was true. As much as I didn't want to admit it aloud, the vision from earlier made me even more curious. Even if my father was not motivated in finding out who this elf was, especially when it seemed like they will be stuck together for who-know-how-long, I certainly felt the need to know who exactly it was that was leading us on this treasure hunt and helping us gain our revenge.

From the beginning, I always felt suspicious of the wraith. To clear my conscience, I need to know if I could trust him, especially with my father's life entwined with his soul.

Who was this "Bright Master" the creature seemed to know more than we did?


End file.
